The Things That Bind Us
by A Trashbag Writes
Summary: SHIELD recruited different people for different reasons. For her, it had been because she had seemed so completely unremarkable. [T for language, title subject to change]
1. The Things That Call Us Back

_Hello, everyone! I'm not exactly sure how this is going to go, but since this idea's been bugging for awhile now, I figured i'd give it a shot. I'm far from an expert on this world, so hopefully I don't write anything that's too out of whack...But if I do, just let me know and i'll do my best to correct it! _

_I really hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

"This is a level 7. As of right now, we are at war."  
"...What do we do?"

_What **can** we do?_

The answer is obvious.

But the words come with much more difficulty than Nick Fury expects.

* * *

"Get Agent Romanoff on the line!" Fury shouts as he enters the office.

Immediately, his agents cease their idle morning chatter and rush into their perfectly practiced patterns of action, only with more focus and greater drive than usual, today.  
They've all heard about the incident that happened just yesterday night. It's why they're all here, after being painstakingly selected and given the proper security clearance to know about this hell of a mission they are about to embark on.

"Agent Romanoff?" a voice asks from across the way.  
Amidst all the action, Fury swivels around so his good eye is aimed on the source of the question. This is, of course, more out of pure habit than anything else.  
He would recognize the voice of Maria Hill, his second in command, almost anywhere.  
"She'll want to know if Barton's been taken." comes the answer.  
There is no hesitance in the way he speaks, which is normal for him, but the blue-eyed brunette has worked under the man long enough to understand the way he heaves a small sigh and turns his gaze in the aftermath.  
"Yes, sir." she says, giving a sharp bird-like nod.

As she walks away, Coulson wanders over.  
"What about the others?" he asks.  
Someone waves a phone in his face, the number already dialed in, which he takes, but his attention is still focused on the director of the operation.  
"Romanoff shouldn't be a problem. Neither should the Captain." Fury answers. To the rest of the room, "Someone compile the necessary information and get it to his apartment!" Then, he sighs as he rests his hands on the metal railing and stares absently out at nothing. "As for the rest of them...well, let's just say I have a feeling they're going to need some convincing. They're not a group who plays nice with others."

Coulson can attest to that.  
He's met nearly every one of them.  
"So we call in Romanoff first and get her to help force them." he says, finally following Fury's train of thought.  
The other man nods.  
Phil dials.

And as he talks his way through some Russian general's spiel, Coulson scoots off to the corner to continue his conversation as Fury starts to dole out even more orders.

"We need you to come in."  
"Are you kidding? I'm working." is the first thing she says.  
"This takes precedence."  
"I'm in the middle of an interrogation. This moron is giving me everything."  
There is a pause then, and some sheepishly muttered words in the background that Coulson can't quite make out. "Look, you can't pull me out of this right now."  
"Tasha, Barton's been compromised."

Those four words change everything.

"...Let me put you on hold."

And then Coulson has nothing to do but listen in as punches are thrown, property is damaged, and people go flying.  
He thinks he hears a chair splinter.  
And...the rattle of chains?  
A fairly average day, then. Nothing Romanoff can't handle.  
And sure enough, after not even the span of five minutes, she is back.

"Where is Barton now?"  
"We don't know." Coulson answers honestly, bracing himself for what's next.  
"But he's alive."  
"We think so. We'll brief you on everything as soon as you get back."  
He hesitates.  
"But first, we need you to talk to the big guy."

He can hear the smirk in her voice when she answers which is all he needs to know that she's thinking of someone else entirely.  
"Coulson, you know that Stark can trust me about as far as he can throw me."  
"Oh, i've got Stark. You get the big guy."

There is a long pause before she speaks again.

"Wasn't another agent assigned to keep tabs on him?"  
"She left SHIELD not too long ago."  
"So get her back." Romanoff answers without missing a beat.  
"...She's a difficult person to convince."

"Well, try. Phil, you know she's the only one equipped to handle things, to handle him, if they go wrong."  
Phil gives a reluctant sigh.  
"I'll talk to Directory Fury. But in the meantime, i'll send you his location. Head over there and be ready to move if she declines."  
"Understood."  
The line disconnects.

Phil stares down at the phone in his hands for a few moments after, hemming and hawing over what to do.  
Fury definitely won't like this.  
The man isn't exactly a fan of when things don't go precisely according to his plans.  
But, Coulson thinks, it is the truth.  
They need her.  
Especially as they are about to take the search up in the air and they need to bring the doctor up with them.

"...and get another copy of the file for Stark." Fury is saying to Hill when Coulson approaches.  
The man then glances at him expectantly.  
"Uh...Romanoff is on her way." Phil reports.  
And Fury nods in satisfaction, then turns to head out, expecting nothing else. But Phil knows that he can't just let this go.

"Sir! Uh...She also said that we should bring...her in."  
Fury's footsteps come to a halt.  
"'Her?'" he echoes, good eye glinting dangerously as he turns back.  
Phil shifts uncomfortably.  
"...Romanoff says we need her. And...uh, with all due respect, sir, I agree."  
For a long time, Nick Fury says nothing; just continues to bore holes into poor Coulson's forehead, trying to get him to take it all back. But Coulson just returns the stare with one of his own, a hopelessly earnest one, as all the other agents in the room listen in with bated breath and pretend to have their noses buried in their work.

It is Nick Fury who relaxes the hard lines in his face first.

"...Get me Simza Sterling's number." he says quietly.

Maria Hill frowns at the name.  
Because she knows who that is and she thinks that bringing her on board is a bad idea indeed.

Too curious not to ask, she half-jogs, half-walks to catch up to Fury as he stalks across the room.  
"Sir? Wouldn't that just create a higher risk?" she asks him quietly.  
"No. He's not even likely to recognize who the damn hell she is." Fury answers wearily. "I'm more concerned about her willingness to cooperate. Especially with me involved."  
And before Hill can ask any more than that, the nearest agent, Agent Lee to be specific, pulls the number up on her screen and Fury waves Phil over to him as he turns away.

Hill watches as the director punches in the phone number and then retreats to a different room, Coulson in tow.

"I don't think she's going to pick up." Phil says after a few unanswered rings.  
"Oh, she'll pick up alright."

And sure enough, after two or three more rings, someone answers.

"Ms. Sterling-" Fury begins, but that's as far as he gets.  
"I've already told you. Stop tagging me! I left SHIELD not even a year ago and you're already-"  
There's a loud racket on the phone then, which neither man can recognize the sound of. The noise oddly resembles the crackling of a candy wrapper into the receiver, the screech of an infant, and a bomb going off all at once. To some stranger in the background, she shouts, "No, he's not dead, you idiot! Look at him! Jesus, give the gun to me!"  
The earth-shattering crack of a bullet firing thunders out.  
After, they hear her say "I thought I told you not to bring him in right now. Take the body and get out!"

Fury and Coulson exchange glances.

And then, there is a heavy sigh as she turns her attention back to the phone.  
"As you can probably tell, i've got a few projects going on of my own right now. Leave me alone, Fury. I'm not going to help you. Don't ask me agai-"  
"Well, what if I gave you one of my heroic speeches?" Coulson interrupts, cheerfully.

And, recognizing the voice, the person on the other end suddenly breaks off her tirade.  
She lets out another sigh, knowing she can't be angry (not at _**him**_ anyway), and her tone is softer when she finally speaks again.

"...Hey, Phil." she says.  
"Agent Sterling." he replies.  
"_**Former**_ agent." the voice stresses. "So sorry but no. Not even one of your speeches is going to convince me this time, no matter how good they are."  
"But we have so much history together." he jokes.  
"Yeah, well, you know me. Never been big on history."  
Coulson laughs good-naturedly at the reference to her unusual abilities, and as they continue to banter back and forth, the edge in the woman's voice nearly lets up entirely.

But then, "Ms. Sterling," Nick Fury interrupts, patience wearing thin. "we have an urgent matter concerning a certain doctor who thinks he's hidden up in Kolkata. Now with the world going to hell, I hope you don't think you're gonna get out clean and free when everything else starts going batshit crazy around here."

"I-" she begins to reply.  
But he talks over her.  
"Especially," he emphasizes. "not where Bruce Banner is involved."

"...Banner?..." she murmurs. Then, she snaps to attention. "Hang on, did you say Kolkata? He's supposed to be in Canada."  
"He left." Fury answers.  
And he can feel the balance of power start to shift in his favor.  
He just needs one more opportunity...  
And then, it happens.

"Left?!' Unbelievable! I thought I told you to keep me updated on his movements-"  
He seizes the chance.

"Here at SHIELD, we don't share classified information, not even with former agents. Of course, I might be willing to disclose more details on his whereabouts if you somehow happened to be reinstated or were otherwise involved in our latest operation. But seeing as how you've refused once already, I can see there's no use in trying to convince you any longer so we'll just move on to the next name on the list now." Fury says.

Coulson frowns in confusion at this, because they have no list.  
There is just Agent Romanoff, and her.  
But Fury merely gives Coulson a sidelong, knowing glance as he continues.  
"This call was something more of a formality anyway so goodbye, Ms. Sterli-"

"Wait!" the voice suddenly shouts.

Coulson begins to grin as they wait for her to continue.

"You bastards..." she hisses under her breath.

Fury's brow creases in displeasure.  
But then, she follows that with two words that make it all worthwhile.

"...I'm in."

* * *

From somewhere far, far away, a rather unremarkable looking woman dressed in somewhat frumpy office clothing with her dark hair tied back, sighs as she drops into the nearest chair to question just how on earth her brain _**makes**_ life decisions, anyway.

As she thinks, she places her phone on the desk and absently turns it over and over and over again.  
And again...  
...And again.

And then, she's on her feet, suddenly all business.  
She yanks the door of the old, abandoned warehouse's office open and shouts, "Daniel!" out into the hall.

If she's going to be on a plane to India in an hour, she needs to start cleaning up loose ends.

After just a few moments, her assistant appears, rubbing at the back of his neck in concern.

"Listen, i'm sorry about before." Daniel apologizes. "I-I just...I didn't think that he could do that, it was all so-"  
"It's okay." Sterling answers, cutting him off.  
His blue eyes crinkle up in relief and he grins down at her then, towering over her by a good foot. But all she can give him in return is a tight smile.

"Come on. We have another job to do."

He follows her out happily, like a lost little puppy.

* * *

An hour later, average college student Daniel Fischer is standing in the middle of the busy streets of the city, looking as lost and confused as anything.

(Lost and confused, but...strangely happy.  
He doesn't know why.  
He can't remember...  
Oh, he remembers all the details of the jobs he'd been working and things like that, of course, he just can't remember for _**whom **_he'd done all of those heinous things for.)

And Simza Sterling watches him from behind the driver's wheel of a car parked just across the road.  
She could park closer. She knows that.  
It's not as if he would recognize her either way, but still...

She reaches down for her cup of coffee and as she does, she sees his, too; the one he had been sipping from not even a half hour before.

Daniel Fischer blinks up at the dark, rainy sky for just a second longer.  
Then, he gives a small shake of his head to clear his mind, and he pulls up the hood of his sweater, and he disappears into the crowd for good.

Sterling knows she shouldn't feel bad about this.  
The kid had agreed to it in his contract when they'd first started working together, after all.  
But she does.

She sighs as she turns on the ignition and drives off towards the airport.

* * *

_Hope it wasn't too terrible?..._  
_Oh my god..._


	2. The Things That Normal People Aren't

_Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed and followed this story! It's really humbling to know people are out there reading my stuff, especially since I sweat so much over whether or not to post...__  
Is this turning into a giant cliche fest? Because if it is, let me know (nicely please!). And i'll either trash this chapter and start over or figure something else out...  
...Sorry about this chapter guys...I'll just, like, say that right now...  
_

_Quick note: The calm feeling mentioned is not just a violin-swells, first-meeting thing of love. It ties back to something, I swear._

* * *

When Simza Sterling steps off of the plane, she knows that she probably looks just as disgusting, limp, and tired as she feels, and the jet lag that is already seeping itself into her exhausted bones doesn't make things any better.  
Still, she forces one foot in front of the other and makes her way off of the crowded aircraft and through the hustle and bustle of the airport, and then she steps out into the warm, balmy, humid night.

For a moment, Simza sets her suitcase down and just takes a breath to collect herself as she watches the people and cars pass along the busy roads. Then, she stretches out her sore arms and back and legs, and fishes into the pocket of her slacks for a piece of paper.

Using only the dim light that shines through the glass windows of the airport terminal, she peers down at the hastily scrawled address in her hand and tries her hardest to decipher her own clumsy chicken scratch, but after just a minute, she gives up with a heavy sigh.

"Just-!..." Simza starts to shout in frustration.  
A few onlookers give her odd looks.  
"Damn me." she finishes to herself quietly.  
Then, with a resigned huff, she begins rummaging through her bag to find her cellphone so that she can call upon Coulson, her special fairy godmother, for help.

"Agent Sterling?" a voice suddenly says.  
Simza glances up.  
And she is met with the sight of a young-ish looking man.  
It takes Simza all of just a second for her to realize that he is, undoubtedly, a SHIELD agent.  
He doesn't exactly blend in, after all. Not standing there, dressed head to toe in a crisp, clean suit, against the soft blur of colors in the background.

Simza starts to frown.  
"Yes?" she says.  
"I've been told to escort you to the location." the man answers. He picks up her suitcase then and without any other word, begins walking off down the street.  
It takes her a second to snap out of her exhausted stupor.  
But when she does, she hurries after him.

"Wait, you're not gonna tell me any other details about this whole thing first?" Simza asks, struggling to match the stranger's long stride.  
"No." comes the answer. "Direct orders from Fury. We're not to disclose any information until you actually return to base. With Dr. Banner, of course."

Simza lets out a sigh of aggravation as she bumps and nudges against the flow of the city's crowd, a crowd that will part for this serious, ever-so-posh looking man but not for her, no doubt just a frazzled receptionist or assistant in their minds.  
And she doesn't know if it is that, or if it is the simple smarmy look on this man's face that forces her to say it, but all of a sudden, she blurts the words out before she can stop herself.  
"I could find out even without you telling me, you know."

The man, surprisingly enough, almost smiles at that.  
"So i've been informed. However, since your...departure from SHIELD, Agent Sterling," he half-sneers. "we've upgraded all of our security systems and even implemented-"  
"-a DNA recognition system so that I couldn't possibly have gathered any intel whatsoever on SHIELD's top secret Avengers project?" Simza interrupts. And now it is her turn to almost smile. "Do tell me more."

The man stops dead in his tracks.  
And his expression is suddenly so dark and frigid it sends a chill up her spine, even in this ridiculously hot summer air.  
"How do you know about that?" he demands.  
"I'm an info broker. It's my job to know." Sterling returns.  
"So why pretend to be clueless?"  
"Because it wasn't in my best interest to play anything other than the part of a clueless underling." Simza sighs.  
And she turns to continue on, but suddenly, the man whips his hand out and clamps it onto her shoulder with a vice-like grip.

"Your best interests," he growls. "are now SHIELD's. You're not working on your own anymore, Agent Sterling, and that means no more lone-wolfing it. You follow orders. Understood?"

For a moment, Simza says nothing. Then, her eyes narrow and she only steps in closer, matching his sharp gaze with a withering glare of her own.  
When she finally speaks, her voice is low and controlled and quiet.  
But cold, too.

The voice of someone practiced in the cruel, calculating act of interrogation.

"Look. You seem like a relatively new agent so i'll give you some advice. SHIELD is going to seem perfect to you for a few more years. It's going to seem like the greatest thing in the world- impenetrable, undefeatable, noble...Trustworthy."  
She pauses to let her words sink in and then, she leans in even closer to make her next words count.  
"But then, it's gonna fail you." Simza says. "So _**you**_ listen to _**me**_, rookie. Always leave yourself a way out. And never let them make you any promises. Understood?" She finally lets up. "...Or you'll end up just like me."

Even this austere, uppity man seems to give pause at that.

And seeing his startled face, as if everything he knows has been torn down, Sterling can't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt in her chest.  
She knows how hard it is to accept that your heroes aren't really heroes, after all.

"Or maybe you won't." she says. "I mean, who knows."  
But the man remains frozen on the spot and so Simza lets out a sigh. "...Look, i'm sorry. That was my fault. I shouldn't have antagonized you like that, i'm just...tired. So can you point me in the direction i'm supposed to go so we can get the hell out of here?"

The man absently nods in the direction of the outskirts of town where she can glean the outline of a rather rundown home in the distance. An ominous air looms around its solitude and Simza hesitates.

"You got any weapons on you?"

The man nods again and clumsily pulls a pistol from a concealed holster in his belt, which she takes and stows away only after checking to make sure it's loaded.  
"Thanks." she mutters.

She is careful to avoid his eye as she takes her bag from his hand and shuffles on alone.

* * *

Simza does not enter the home immediately.  
No, that would be a stupid thing to do, given SHIELD's penchant for tests and tricks and traps.

So first, she listens and watches and deduces all she can from her surroundings. And after, even when she's done all that she can and she's found no sign of obvious danger, she only stands on the porch, hand almost, just _**almost**_, shaking.

"Just get in there, you gutless chicken." Simza whispers to herself.  
And then, she forces herself to step past the sheer curtain that serves as a door before she can lose her nerve.

"You know, for a man who-"

Sartled half out of her whits, Simza whirls around to find the source of the voice, hand already grabbing for her weapon.

But standing there in the shadows, is only an equally surprised red-headed woman, dressed far more appropriately for the humidity than she in a thin black shirt and skirt, with a gauzy crimson shawl draped across her shoulders.

For a long moment, the woman continues to stare, green eyes only slightly wider open than usual in an expression of subtle surprise as Simza gawks openly back. But then, the spy's features shift into a look of quiet amusement instead.  
"So...they got you to join the party after all."

"Agent Romanoff." Simza says in greeting. After a moment's hesitation, she puts the pistol away but the suspicion doesn't wear off entirely.  
The Black Widow nods to her in turn.

"...They didn't tell me you were coming." Sterling says carefully.  
Slowly and deliberately, putting on a show of making no sudden movements for the sake of her own safety, she surveys the interior of the home.  
A few rooms, each one as empty and shabby as the next. A wooden table. Wooden chairs.

No doctor.  
No hidden assassins come to kill her either, which is promising, but no doctor.  
And so she starts to suspect this all been just some ridiculous trap after all.

Picking up on this, Romanoff says, "They called me in yesterday. They had no idea that you were gonna be here at the time." A pause. "That is, until I suggested you."

Simza blinks.

"'You suggested?'..." she echoes.

And that is when all the parts and pieces finally click into place.

"So Fury was bluffing..." Simza says incredulously. "'List', my ass. Goddammit."  
She slumps herself down in the nearest chair in both relief and irritation, knowing now that this has all most definitely been a trap. Just not the kind she had expected. Either way, she's fallen into it and now it's too late to back out.  
"I should have known..." she sighs.

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Romanoff offers with slight shrug of her shoulders. "It's true that we need your help."  
"Why? I mean, you're already here." the other woman replies wearily.  
The space between the spy's brows crinkles.  
"Fury didn't tell you much, did he?"

"No. He told me it'd be an easy job. Told me to recruit Dr. Banner. Told me we're looking for something called the tesseract. That's it."

Romanoff lets out a small breath of exasperation at that.  
"SHIELD is taking this mission up to the skies, Sterling. That means every agent on this operation will be contained in a metal vessel along with the doctor. We need you with us as a failsafe."

Simza doesn't speak for a very long moment.

"...So i'm not here for interrogation?...Or info?"  
Romanoff shakes her head.  
"No."

Slowly, Simza Sterling takes in a deep breath as she mulls over all of the facts in her head, and as she does, her fingers absently tap out an unrecognizable rhythm on the arm of her chair.

_Tap tap ta-tap tap tap...  
_  
The tapping stops.

"...You know that my-...that **_it_** doesn't work once he's already changed. Only before." Sterling murmurs. "So unless i'm hovering over him 24/7, i'm of no more use than the next person."  
Romanoff nods.  
"We know. Still, on the off-chance you can stop him before that if something goes wrong, we figure it's better to be safe than sorry."  
"So what am I doing here then?" Simza snaps in irritation. "Even if that's all SHIELD wanted, they didn't have to call us both all the way out to India."  
"I was supposed to head back to SHIELD when they heard confirmation that you'd arrived," Romanoff explains, not even the slightest bit fazed. "but you were taking a little while longer to get here than we expected. They almost thought you weren't coming in at all."  
"Pff. Yeah, well. That is actually not my fault. They just had to get me a ticket on the one flight in the entire damned place that got delayed three hours?"  
"That's some bad luck, you have, Sterling." Romanoff says, but she starts to grin because it's oddly nice to know that some things about Simza haven't changed.  
Simza just snorts.  
"Story of my life." she grumbles.  
But finally, she shakes off the bitterness and looks up at the spy again from her chair.

"So what's the plan, then? I mean, i'd assume we're not just hiding out on the outskirts of the city for no reason?"  
"You'd be correct." Romanoff says with an approving nod. "In fact, i've sent someone out to-"

But she doesn't get to finish.

Because just then, a young girl of no more than 7 or 8, darts into the room, dashes straight between the two women without a word, and then clambers out the opposite window noisily.  
"What-" Simza begins.

But then, there is a series of short, focused footsteps growing closer and closer and then a head pokes in through the makeshift door and...

And it is him.

Bruce Banner.  
With just the same sleep-mussed look and tired face that she remembers.

Simza goes completely still.  
Agent Romanoff straightens to attention beside her.  
And _**he**_...he just surveys the room, eyes confused and surprisingly innocent. Until he notices them, of course.

"...Should have gotten paid up front, Banner." he mutters to himself with a wry, tired laugh. "Would've died a richer man."

Agent Romanoff steps in, as smooth as anything.  
"I think we both know that you dying isn't the real danger here, doctor."

The man lets out a resigned sigh of acknowledgement to that, then slowly enters the room in full. A deep purple button down and a dark suit jacket edges through the thin material hanging over the door and the doctor wrings his hands uncertainly as he stands there, waiting for the women to reveal whatever it is that has caused them to lure him out of hiding.

Romanoff glances at Simza then, expecting her to take over here.

But Simza doesn't.

Because it's harder to face him now than she'd ever thought it would be.  
It's harder to hear the familiar gentle timbre in his voice and it's harder to see him shift uncomfortably in the silence, just as soft-spoken and seemingly timid as ever, and...

It's also harder to deal with the guilt.

Simza's hand passes absently over the fading scar at her neck and, for a moment, she forgets how to speak.

* * *

_"Yeah, I know Mom. Thanks." a 24 year old Simza Sterling says into her phone as she hurries through the streets towards her second favorite dive. (Her first favorite is apparently closed for maintenance due to an incident that had happened just yesterday night, which had resulted in the wall being completely busted out in some bizarre way.)_

_"Yeah, I'll tell her. I know, I know. Okay. Bye."_  
_With a short blip! the call disconnects and the bright-eyed, optimistic young woman stuffs the device back into her pocket as she continues on eagerly._

_She has something to celebrate tonight.  
And she's called all of her friends out to tell them the good news.  
_

_She's been officially hired. And that's with her employers knowing she hasn't received a full college education, too.  
__She's gotten through a year's worth of grueling training and it's a hard job. No doubt about that, but it's also the only one she can get with her skills or, well, lack thereof, so she has no complaints._  
_She'll earn decent money, see the world, then retire and live a boring old happy life to the end of her days.  
It's not exactly the most thrilling plan, but...  
"Pleasure in the simple things." Simza laughs to herself. _

_With a new spring in her step, she turns the last corner, ducks into the shortcut that cuts through the alleyways, and then-_

_Nearly shrieks._

_Because lying there near the dead-end of the backstreet is a body._

_No..._  
_Simza cautiously ventures one step closer and sees that the 'body' is still breathing._

_It's a man. _  
_A...naked man._

_"...Hello?" she calls out cautiously._

_The man lets out a soft groan but other than that, he remains still, face planted in the asphalt._

_"...Hello? Are you alright, or...?"_

_Still, no response._

_And so Simza gingerly pulls her phone from her pocket to call the incident in to the police, but just that very second, her cellphone begins buzzing in her hands._

_Her friends, probably calling to tell her that she is very, very late._

_And Simza wants desperately to go to them._  
_But at the same time, she can't help but wonder if she can really afford to leave this man here._

_He might be a criminal._  
_He might just be some random drunk, but..._

_He might also be a victim. He might also be dying._

_And so she hugs her coat closer around her body and chews at the skin of her bottom lip, not knowing what on Earth to do._

_Luckily, she doesn't have to make that choice._  
_Something else makes it for her._

_And that 'something' is this:_  
_A light ping!_  
_A new message._

_Two sentences followed by a picture._

* * *

He waits and he watches them, the two women, one of whom is staring at him agape from her chair, and the other of whom is staring at the first woman in apparent confusion.

This one, the redhead, she is obviously a spy.  
Her quick recovery to his untimely appearance as well as the nuanced shifts in the shadows of her eyes makes that much obvious.

The other woman, well...he isn't exactly sure what she is.  
She looks almost comically unkempt next to the other, but even in her tired face there is a dark sense of wariness that suggests she isn't entirely innocent either. Still, of the two women in the room, Bruce finds himself inexplicably calmer with this plainer one around.

"...For a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress, you sure picked a hell of a place to settle." Romanoff says, trying to recover from Simza's silence.

Banner shrugs.  
"Avoiding stress isn't the secret."

"Then what is it? Yoga?" she quips.

And the man offers up a smile at the jibe, but nothing else and as he paces around the room, Romanoff gives Sterling a quick nudge and a questioning shake of her head before he turns to them again.

"You brought me to the edge of the city. Smart." he says from the window. "I, uh, assume the whole place is surrounded?"  
This time, the Back Widow does not swoop in to save her and, after a moment's pause, Simza is forced to answer.  
"No...No, just you and us." she manages.

"Right."  
Judging by his matter-of-fact tone, he clearly doesn't buy it, but he lets the matter drop for now in favor of a more important question. "And who exactly are you two?"

"Natasha Romanoff. This is my colleague, Simza Sterling."  
Simza manages an odd smile in greeting.  
He ignores her.

"And are you here to kill me, Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Sterling? Cause that's..not gonna work out for everyone."  
"No, no. 'Course not." Romanoff hurriedly assures him. "We're here on behalf of SHIELD."

His eyes light in recognition at that.  
"SHIELD..." he scoffs. Then, "How'd they find me?"  
"...They never lost you." Simza says. "Just kept their distance."  
"That's right." Romanoff agrees. "We even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent."  
"Why?"  
"Nick Fury seems to trust you. But now we need you to come in."

The doctor pauses.  
"...What if I say no?"  
"We'll persuade you." Romanoff answers.  
"And what if the...other guy says no?"

"Look, we're apparently facing a catastrophe here." Simza interrupts testily.  
She is growing weary of the roundabout games and is tired enough to throw all her previous inhibitions out the window.

"...Well those I actively try to avoid." the doctor answers, frowning at her sudden outburst.  
And Simza nods, matter-of-factly.  
"Right. Of course. As you well should. You know, I refused at first too. But this isn't a catastrophe you're gonna be able to run from, doctor."

She digs through her suitcase then and pulls out a file which she lays open on the table.  
"This," she says, digging out a photo of a bright blue glowing object, "is the tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet."  
The doctor quirks a brow at her.  
"And what does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?" he says.

Despite herself, a snicker escapes Simza's lips before she can stop it.  
"That's an interesting idea," she replies. "but no. They need you to find it."  
"Why do they need my help?"  
"Because it emits a gamma signature that's too weak for SHIELD to trace." she sighs. "But you're kind of an expert on this sort of thing, aren't you? They're hoping you can do the impossible."

"So...Fury isn't after the monster." he says, casually edging toward them.  
"Not that he's told me."  
"And he tells you everything?"  
Simza starts to smile.  
"No. He tells me nothing, actually." she answers. "I'm not with SHIELD. Not anymore, at least. I'm just here for this one projec-"

_Slam!_  
"Stop lying to me!"

The table shakes under the weight of his fists slamming down upon it and all in a second, Romanoff's gun is aimed at his head and Simza is on her feet, too, heart pounding in her chest, her chair knocked back from her abrupt movements.

She is prepared to do what needs to be done.  
But that doesn't mean she isn't scared.  
Even now, she can feel her heart rate climbing out of control, her head spinning, her breath growing ragged, her knees turning to jelly...  
_Don't do this again, doctor, _she finds herself pleading in her mind.

Luck is on her side today.

"I'm sorry. That was mean..." Banner says, drawing back. He is grinning now. "I just wanted to see what you'd do."

Neither of the women let up their defensive stances.

"Alright. Look, i'll help you. So why don't you put that down now and, uh, nobody gets hurt." he tries again, raising both his hands in the air this time in a show of peace.

There's still a trace of that amused grin on his face, but after another moment, Romanoff finally lowers her weapon.

And he can tell that she is a little shaken, but not too much, which makes him wonder what her safety net is.  
Nobody waltzes in to meet him, of all people, without having a surefire backup plan, after all.

When he glances over at Simza next, however, and he sees the shaking hands, a surprising thought begins to dawn on him...

_What if the safety net is her?_

But no matter how hard he looks, he doesn't see any aspect of the girl that would even pose a slight threat to his alter ego.

"Is your friend over there gonna be okay?" he says to Romanoff.  
Natasha looks over to Simza only then.

"Yeah...She'll be fine." the spy answers. But she instinctively steps in front of the other agent to hide the woman's unsteadiness.  
Romanoff then casts a somewhat guilty glance towards the doctor as she speaks covertly into an earpiece.  
"Stand down...We're good here." she murmurs.

Bruce manages a laugh.

_So the Sterling woman isn't the backup plan, after all.  
No, the backup plan is just the usual. Tanks and huge guns.  
_

"'Just us'?" Banner quotes, giving her a pointed glance.  
"...I didn't know that Romanoff had brought back up." Simza replies.  
"Uh huh." comes the answer.  
He gives her a skeptical look; a look to challenger her.  
But Simza only blinks dejectedly at the floor once before she picks herself up and walks out of the room.

In the strange silence that follows, Bruce Banner just frowns after her in confusion as Romanoff retrieves the file that her associate had left behind.  
"...She wasn't lying, you know." she says quietly.  
Banner glances at her, caught off-guard by the sudden voice.  
"What?"

Romanoff pauses in shuffling together the classified papers to turn her piercing green eyes on him just for a second.  
Then, she looks away and her hands resume their work.  
"It's true she left SHIELD. And it's true she thought it was just the three of us, too."

And suddenly Bruce Banner feels kind of like an asshole.

Because that look of terror on the woman's face? That had been real. Which means he'd struck on some personal nerve trying to test her when she'd been honest all along.

Banner lets out a heavy sigh.

* * *

He catches her sneaking numerous glances on the flight back.  
But they aren't angry ones. Or wounded ones.  
They're just...curious.  
And kind of familiar, too.

"Sorry, but have we met somewhere before?" he asks, leaning across the middle seat where Agent Romanoff slumbers.  
Even in her sleep, the spy hardly moves. Hardly betrays anything at all.

Simza shakes her head.  
"...I think i'd remember if we had."

"Oh." he replies. Well, then, uh, it's nice meeting you Agent Sterling." he finishes politely.  
"Likewise, Dr. Banner." she answers.

A silent moment passes, in which Simza pretends to read her book and Banner pretends to notice the view outside his window.  
But then, he suddenly turns back towards her in determination.

"I'm sorry about...uh...before, by the way." he offers sheepishly. "I've never really been a people person."

And to this, at last, Sterling starts to crack the tiniest of smiles.  
"I can tell. And it's okay."

He gives a few awkward nods of relief.  
"Alright...Good."

He shifts back into his seat.

* * *

_"Hey...Hey. You feeling alright, yet?"_  
_Bruce Banner slowly blinks his groggy eyes open._

_And the first thing he sees is a such a bizarre sight that he jumps awake.  
_

_"Who...Who are you? What am I-" he begins to say._  
_But then, in his panic, he starts to feel his mind pulsing, being stretched thin and pinched and pulled this way and that-  
Oh, no. No, no. Not again, he thinks.  
_

_"Wait. Hey, it's okay. You don't have to worry." the woman rushes to say._  
_She pulls the hood of her sweater back, which had, up until that point, been drawn so tightly around her face, that she had looked like some kind of cartoon alien.  
"It's okay." she says again._

_It doesn't help._  
_His hand clenches into a fist. He grits his teeth._  
_Stop, stop, **stop**, he tells himself._  
_And he is just about prepared to tell her to get the hell out of his sight before 'the other guy' breaks loose and kills her._

_But then, out of nowhere, the stranger lays a cool hand on his arm and a rush of inexplicable clear and calm washes through him, head to toe, like a sweeping ocean wave with occasional shushed murmurs of "it's okay" and "you don't have to worry" anchoring him amidst the current. __  
_

_As the feeling leaves him, he stares at her stupidly.  
__And once she sees that he is subdued, the girl smiles at him and retreats a distance away._

_"Better?" she asks._  
_"...Yeah...Better." he murmurs dumbly._  
_(But he doesn't think to question what or how or why.)_

_Slowly, he looks around._  
_A small, messy apartment.  
There's clutter everywhere and he is lying on a worn couch in the middle of a cramped, messy living room. A blanket's been laid out over his body and as he sits up, it starts to sag off of his shoulders._

_As for her...Well, she doesn't look dangerous. Especially not dressed in a pair of sweats and an un-ironed button down that peeks out the bottom of her hoodie._  
_A somewhat odd combination._  
_Still, to her credit, she doesn't seem to care whether her clothes match or not, which tells him that she is most likely an exhausted college student or...a recent graduate, maybe, down in her luck and searching for work._

_Her face seems friendly enough as she perches, cross-legged, on top of her kitchen table._

_"So...what are you? Excaped convict? Prodigal son? Super secret spy?" she asks, conspiratorially. But there's a joking glimmer in her eyes. _  
_"What? No." Banner says. He rubs at his weary eyes. "I'm just...I'm just..."_  
_She waits for his answer, expectantly._  
_"...Nobody." he finishes. "Look, I appreciate the help, but a little tip for the future? You see someone lying out on the street, don't bring them into your home. I thought that was pretty common sense."_

_She laughs._  
_"You looked like you needed help. And hey, don't worry about me. I'm pretty tough, you know. If you meant me any harm, I could handle it."_  
_He snorts, more to himself than out loud._  
_"I, uh, highly doubt that."_

_"So, do you live around here or something? I can help you get home..." she says, ignoring him.  
__And seeing no reason to lie, Bruce Banner shakes his head.  
__"No, i'm just in town for a few days. I was going to find a place to stay, but I got...mugged. By some giant, hulking jackass." he lies.  
__She nods sympathetically.  
__"Tough break."  
__"You have no idea."  
"Well, at least you weren't injured." she says. "Kinda strange that they'd want all the clothes off your back though...Unless you were wearing something nice?"  
He doesn't reply._

_"...Right. Well, we should probably report that to the police then. Here, i'll-" she begins to say, digging in her pockets for her phone. But at her words, the man suddenly bursts out in panic, __"No, no, no! Don't!"_

_The girl blinks at him once._  
_Then, slowly retracts her hand, seeming to have a better understanding now of just the exact kind of shit she's stepped into.  
_  
_For a second, Banner wonders if she'll throw him out.  
The idea doesn't thrill him, exactly, considering the fact that he has no real plan of action yet._

_The girl continues to chew on her bottom lip for a long while._  
_  
"I'll tell you what." she says at last. "...Seeing as how you've been...mugged and you have nowhere else to go, you can stay here for awhile. Under one condition." she says. "Well, three."_  
_"Yeah?" he answers doubtfully. "And what conditions might those be?"  
_  
_"Well, the first two are kind of a given. Don't murder me. Or rob me." she laughs. "I mean, that's just good manners, don't you think? As for the third condition..."_ _She pauses._ _"While you stay here, don't open the door for anyone. Not even if they tell you that they know me. Friends, family, I don't care what it is. Don't do it." She offers up a half-smile. "This is a dangerous neighborhood. Which i'm sure you know by now. Are we agreed?"_  
_He nods._

_And she is all smiles again._  
_"Great. Well, now that that's settled, we should probably start by getting you some clothes. I don't supposed you'd be willing to chip in there?" She laughs before he can respond, and Bruce Banner begins to think that talking to herself like this might just be a habit of hers. _  
_"Oh. Uh. No. Here. I can..."_  
_He fumbles around for his wallet as she just gives him an odd look that is a cross between a smile and a frown of concern._  
_Of course, it is only when his hand graze his bare backside, where his butt pocket is supposed to be, that he realizes why._

_"..."_  
_"Like I said," the girl says."'**Start** by getting you some clothes'? Oh, and don't worry. Whatever, uh, parts I may have seen while I was getting you up here, i've already completely forgotten about." she assures him a grin and a wave of her hand.  
_

_"...Hey, what's your name?" he asks. As if learning her name is somehow a fair trade for her seeing him in the nude._  
_"What? Oh. It's...Ellie. Mills. You?" she says._  
_She turns the question back on him so fast that he fumbles for his words, even although he is the one who asked her first._

_'Steve' he starts to answer.  
(His typical alibi. Generic. Safe.)  
But a sudden pounding in his head, the remnants of last night's rampage, and he is left to deal with "...St-archk..." instead._  
_She raises a brow at him._  
_"Stark as in 'Tony'? You a distant relative or something?"_  
_"Uh. No. Starchk as in...Starch." _  
_"...Starch...Your name is Starch?" she asks, with a frown._  
_"Yeah, it's my last name...First name's...Buck." he lies.  
"Buck Starch. Uh-huh..."  
The girl continues to frown._

_"I'm, uh, not from the city."  
_  
_And finally, she snickers._  
_"Amazing."  
"...What is?"  
"The whole universe lined itself up just for this pun. You ready to hear it?" she asks. And again, before he can reply, she leans in and says, "Buck naked in my apartment."  
She sniggers.  
"Get it? 'Buck-naked'."_  
_And, still in her getup, she heads over to the front door of her apartment, still cracking up over the idea of "'Buck-naked' in my apartment" as she leaves him.  
_  
_Once she is gone, 'Buck' heaves out a heavy sigh._  
_This is a bad idea and he knows it._  
_But after narrowly escaping whomever those men had been last night, he needs a place to hide, to recuperate, to find his ground.  
(Before he goes off again to hide out somewhere new, anyway.)  
_  
_As blissfuly ignorant and...lonely, perhaps, as that girl had seemed, he is glad that she is the one who'd found him._  
_Because she seems so unbelievably...unremarkable.  
In a word, normal._

_And, for some reason, people always forgot to suspect normal._

* * *

_As soon as 'Ellie Mills' is out of the room, her laughing stops short and trails off into a sigh instead._

_'All agents in the vicinity are to be on the lookout for this man. If he's found, I want you to report it in immediately.'  
_  
_And she'd been the one to do it. She'd been the one to find him._

_But still. She can't believe the sheer number of mistakes she's practically already just made._  
_Too obvious. Too eager. Too..._  
_New._  
_She starts to wonder if she'll ever be an agent worth her salt._

_Just then, her phone rings and when she sees who it is, she rushes down the stairwell and bursts out the door into the alley to answer._

_"Has the subject regained consciousness?" is the first thing that the voice on the other line says.  
__'Hello to you to.' Simza thinks to herself dryly. But she doesn't dare say a word of that out loud._  
_"Affirmative, sir. The subject and I have spoken a little and he seems to have no idea who I am or who I work for."_  
_"Good. Keep it that way." Nick Fury says. "Has he given you a real name?"_  
_"Negative. He gave me an alibi. Not a very good one." Simza can't help but snort. "Buck Starch."  
The man on the other end of the line, however, isn't one to be very easily amused. _  
_"See if you can't keep him there for a few more days, Sterling." he says._

_That sobers her up pretty quickly._

_"...Sir, I told him he could stay but...i'm supposed to head out to-"  
__"I'm well aware of your other assignments, Agent." her boss interrupts, firmly. "I'll find an adequate replacement for all your current operations and see if I can find you some new work there in the meantime. Right now, we need you to stay where you are."  
__"...But, sir-"  
__"I know it's not what you wanted, Sterling. But we were gonna assign someone to shadow him anyway. It's better if it's someone he would never suspect."  
The words are difficult for her to hear, but they are final. And Nick Fury knows this so, as an afterthought, he adds, _"_He ran out on us yesterday night. We thought we'd lost him for good._ _Good work, agent. We're lucky you found him when you did."_

_"...Yes, sir." Simza says after a moment.  
But she doesn't feel lucky.  
__Especially not after what comes next._

_"In fact, Agent Sterling, from now on, I want you to keep an eye on his movements. He may not be a threat, but we may need his help in the future. We need someone to keep tabs on him at all times. Are we clear?"  
"...Sir?...Does that mean-..."  
"Yes, Agent. I'm assigning him to you. Permanently."  
__And with that, the line disconnects._

_And young, ambitious Simza Sterling lets out a groan of frustration as she knocks her head repeatedly against a side wall.  
Because her very first mission for SHIELD has just gone from gathering intel in a foreign country...to glorified babysitting._

_If it's for the greater good...If it's for a mission...She can deal with it, she tells herself to stave off the disappointment.  
But the words ring strangely hollow, so s__he just lets out another sigh and ducks out of the alleyway, and into the nearest mens' clothing store._

_For the first three or four days, things remains difficult.  
But then four days bleed into five and five days bleed into six, and between all of the awkward, unintentional midnight coffee rendezvous and the similarly late breakfasts, something changes.  
And by the end of a week, 'Ellie Mills' doesn't want 'Buck Starch' to leave, and 'Buck Starch' doesn't want to go._

_So he doesn't._

_And for awhile, things seem as if they'll be (remarkably enough), okay._

_But beneath the facade of 'average woman' and 'average man', they are, both of them, time bombs.  
Each of their own special kind._

_And they don't know that they are set to go off in just 14 more days._

* * *

What do you think? I don't know.  
I feel kind torn about this, to be honest, guys...  
Writing is hard...


	3. The Things That Make A Home

Thank you for reading, everybody!  
Oh man. I have been slaving over this chapter for days and days and dayyss...I don't know. I just feel like it's sort of out-of-character?...What do ya'll think? I'm open to feedback and will gladly fix things up if you find an issue! I'll try ease up on the flashbacks, as well.  
Also, just to make it clear now, there will be absolutely NO love triangle, so no worries there. Just friends all around and the one love interest, of course.  
Not very exciting, I know...The more actiony bits will come later!

P.S. How much cussing do you guys think i'd be able to get away with before I have to change the rating? Cause...like...you know.

* * *

_Days 1-4 happen like this:_

**_Day 1._**  
_As soon as he's fitted in a pair of tan pants and a white button down, she gets a call.  
And he shifts around restlessly, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, as she disappears into her bedroom to take it.  
_  
_"Hate to leave you," she says after a short, clipped conversation whispered from behind the door of the bathroom. "But that's my boss...He wants me to come in today."  
She doesn't seem all that regretful to be going, and she's been acting strangely huffy since she came back from the store.  
(Not that it's any of his business.)  
__Still, she promises to try and be home early to help him get settled.  
_  
_He waits up for her.  
Or, he intends to. Out of politeness, if nothing else.  
__But, as exhausted as he is by the events of the day, Banner ends up nodding off before she returns, a__nd he goes to bed with an empty stomach and a dry throat because he still feels too much like an intruder, a virus, an outsider, to disturb anything in the apartment._

_When Simza comes home in the dead of night, hours and hours later, she sees him slumbering deeply, not even on the couch, but on the floor, with the blanket she'd given him bunched up underneath his head for a pillow._

_The area around him is completely untouched._  
_Not a single book or chair or speck of dust out of place, and at that, __Simza can't help but soften towards him, just a little bit._

_After one last glance at his sleeping form and a light, fleeting touch to calm his fitful sleep, __Simza peels herself out of her bloodstained shirt and heads into her bedroom, letting the doctor rest in peace._

**_Day 2.  
_**_Something is very different when the man wakes up the next day._

_As his eyelids slowly flutter open, he finds a blur of soft yellow spanning his entire field of view.  
It takes him a moment recognize what in the hell it is._

_A post-it. Plastered to his face._

_Gingerly, Bruce Banner peels the sticky end off of his forehead and glances around the room._  
_Empty._

_Then, he glances down._  
_'Take-out in the fridge! Hope you're not allergic...1/50'_

_1 out of 50?..._

_And when his eyes finally adjust to the light, he sees that there are odd pastel-colored notes left all over the house, stuffed and hidden in places he'd never ever think to look._  
_Which, he realizes with some wonder, is exactly the point.  
_  
_It's a sign from her.  
Telling him to make himself comfortable. To not be a stranger.  
To take what he wants and not hold himself back._

_The thought makes even** him** give a wry chuckle._

_It's a clumsy gesture. Childish, maybe. But it's strangely touching and...sort of sweet. It's a type of simple kindness nobody's shown him in a very long time..._

_He goes on the hunt for more._

_The next thing he sees is a 'Towels are in the closet. 7/50' peeking out from between two books on the shelf.  
__A 'Spare toothbrush under the sink. 32/50' stuck to the pantry doorknob.  
__A 'Got you some extra clothes (and erm...other things) while I was out yesterday. 49/50' scribbled onto a shopping bag in the corner of the living room._

_There is also a hastily scrawled, 'Bottled water in the fridge. Don't drink the tap here. Blegh. 12/50'  
__And this one just so happens to be positioned in such a way that makes it impossible for him to retrieve without cracking open the door of her bedroom: a__n astonishing act that speaks volumes of her trust.  
__(Or maybe just her naiveté...)  
_

_He finds them everywhere, and they range an impossible number of topics._  
_From necessary information about laundry and garbage disposal, to simple little things like 'This book's pretty interesting 3/50' or 'Try this cereal with chocolate milk! 34/50'_

_As it so happens, he finds 50/50 last.  
And when he does, Bruce Banner can do nothing but stare down at the words for a long minute.  
_  
_'I'm really sorry about yesterday! I'll try to be back early tonight, I promise. Oh, and if there's anything else you want me to get for you, just let me know and i'll pick it up tomorrow after work. Whatever you need, i'm here, Starch! -Ellie'_

_The odd pang of simple **feeling** that strikes him as he reads and re-reads and re-reads this message again: it is the first sign of danger.  
And Bruce Banner is smart enough to know that now is exactly the time for him to run; to leave and not put this girl at any more risk when she is so oblivious to the harm in being so unguarded, so **nice** to someone like him._

_But then again...there's something about this girl, this stranger, this whole place, that he just can't shake.  
Something like a hopeless addiction to a newfound sense of control and composure that he's not been able to find anywhere else.  
_

_And so, just for now...  
Banner looks down at his other hand, at the veritable stack of square-shaped papers, and instead of throwing them away, he tucks them under the cushions of the sofa, where he thinks he'll let himself sleep tonight._

_This time, Bruce Banner waits up for her even longer. To thank her, at the very least.  
_

_And it's a strange thing for him; a new thing for him.  
To let himself be indebted to someone, and to, actually perhaps, even like it. _

_But he waits and he waits and he waits.  
And, again, she doesn't make it._

_**Days 3 &amp; 4.**  
He is more at ease now.  
Banner has found his own sense of routine in each day that he spends in this apartment.  
He wakes up, eats, tidies after himself, cautiously pokes around sometimes, and then, he waits. With whatever reading material he can scrounge up from all the clutter, in his hands._

_He doesn't ever leave the building._  
_No, he is too afraid that the quiet of his mind will shatter the second he steps foot outside, and so, he lives his days as a shut-in, a recluse. Not happy, exactly, but content.  
And so time ticks on by and people never see him and he never sees them, and that is almost good enough._  
_(But despite his patience, he never sees **her **either.)_

_She sees **him** every night when she comes back, of course._  
_And she's fallen into a sort of routine, too:_

_Exhaustion, first, as she walks through the door._  
_Surprise when she realizes that the man she'd once thought of as 'surly and strange' is still trying to wait for her, day after day.  
__And then, concern. Over just how long she can keep dodging him without seeming suspicious._

_She hems and haws over that for awhile._  
_(Because looking normal is easy, but pretending to **be** normal? That's a different matter entirely.)_

_But after awhile, the exhaustion settles in again, and even stronger than before, so Simza simply cuts her routine short by laying a hand on the doctor's, just for a second, to make sure that his dreams are always sweet._

* * *

Bloodshot eyes, a wrinkled shirt, and mussed hair.  
Those are the first things Fury notices when he sees Simza stalk off of the airplane and across the enormous flat expanse of the Helicarrier, dodging carts of equipment hurriedly being wheeled to-and-fro, towards him.

Banner and Romanoff appear shortly after her, looking as small as ants and squinting as they blink at the light of day.

"Agent Sterling." Fury says with a nod.  
"You know, if you want to make allies, you could stand to be a little less cryptic with your intentions." Sterling snaps.  
She hasn't slept in over 36 hours now and it's been even longer since she's had a hot shower. Or a cold shower. Or any kind of shower.  
And she's got grease and dirt and dust on her from quite literally all over the world.

Fury just lets out a sigh as her tirade continues.  
He'd never expected Simza to be the the most amiable of people in the first place, especially not after the way they'd parted ways.  
Still, if she was going to go on rampage, he's sort of glad she's getting it over with now.  
"Manipulating me? That's a great way to start off." she hisses. "You know, you could have just led with the whole Banner thing and then maybe a 'please', and I would have-"

"Led with what whole thing now?" a voice cuts in.

It is, of course, Banner himself standing there with his wrinkled suit jacket hanging over his arm, and Romanoff standing beside him.

Simza's mouth immediately clamps shut.  
"Nothing." she mutters. She purses her lips, flashes Fury one last resentful look, then heads off to check in with Agent Hill, who is standing over by the elevator that descends down into the observation room.

"Has she always been...like that? You know, irritable and...?" Banner asks as she storms off.  
"For the past couple of years now, yes." Fury answers with a sigh.  
"The lack of sleep probably isn't helping." Romanoff cuts in. To Banner, "Don't worry, doc. After some food and rest, she'll be personable. Probably."  
"Probably?" he echoes with a frown.  
The spy just gives him a noncommittal smile in return.  
"Very reassuring..." Banner mumbles.

"Well, Agent Sterling'll just have to meet the rest of the team later." Fury says. And the one-eyed man finally turns the attention of his good eye on them. "Romanoff, Agent Coulson and the Captain are due to arrive soon. Stay out here, send them over to Hill. She'll have someone get them all settled."  
"What about Stark?"  
There is a slight pause.

"Apparently he'll get here on his own time." Fury answers with a roll of his eye.  
And Romanoff smirks at that.  
The reply is so typically...Tony.  
"Yes sir." she replies.  
And then, Director Fury is turning to stalk off and see to whatever matter next requires his attention.  
But then, suddenly remembering his manners, Nick Fury stops short and turns back.

"Oh, and before I forget, Dr. Banner," he calls.

The doctor glances up.

"welcome to the team."

* * *

The command room is a flurry of activity by the time Banner steps foot inside, trailing behind the spy and a new acquaintance, Steve Rogers, more commonly referred to by the masses as Captain America.

_**The**_ Captain America.  
Blond hair, blue eyes, clean haircut, and a strapping figure.  
For someone so...eerily perfect, Banner has to admit the man is more approachable than he'd expected him to be.

"-preparing for take-off." an agent calls as she brushes past him, jolting him out of his thoughts.  
"Powerplant performing at capacity."  
"We are clear."

"All engines operating. SHIELD emergency protocol 193.6 in effect."

Steve Rogers steps past the doctor then, marveling at the view from the giant glass panels lining the walls, the hi-tech equipment set up in stations around the room, the sheer number of SHIELD agents, all dressed identically and rushing this way and that to get their tasks done.

Romanoff follows after him, an amused smirk on her face as she watches his mouth fall open.

"Alright, let's vanish." a voice says.  
The authoritative tone cuts through all the other nosie and everyone turns their heads to see Director Fury walk confidently onto the raised platform indicative of his position of power, hands clasped behind his back.

A tall, brunette woman nods.  
"Engaging reflection panels." she says.

Bruce just retreats to the back of the room to try and stay out of everybody's way.  
He casts a quick look around, wringing his hands and pulling into himself uneasily, but nobody seems to be paying him any mind.

Except for...Sterling, who is currently standing clear across the room, talking to a short, brunette man with an impressive cowlick.  
Every once in awhile, her eyes flicker over in his direction, but only for a second before they're trained back on the agent she is conversing with.

For a second, Banner bothers to wonder why Sterling always seems to be so...aware of him. So...conscious of his presence.

"Dr. Banner?"

Thoughts for another time, he supposes.

He, along with all the others whom Fury has beckoned over, slowly plod over to where the man is now standing.

"Captain, this is Agent Simza Sterling. You missed her on the way down." he starts off.

Simza offers up a small smile.

"Nice to meet you, Captain." she says.  
She gives his hand a shake.  
"And you, ma'am." the man replies.

Simza titters uncomfortably at that.  
"You can just call me Simza. Or Sterling." she says. "No need for 'ma'am'. I mean, i'm not, you know, a hundred years old yet or anyth-..." she trails off awkwardly as she realizes who, exactly, it is that she's talking to, but the Captain just gives a good-natured chuckle.  
"Sterling, then." he agrees.

Fury frowns at the unprecedented ease with which the two seem to be getting along. Then, shakes his head once and continues.  
"First order of business, the tesseract." he says.  
"Yeah...Where are you on that exactly?" Banner asks.

In response, Fury simply turns the floor over to Agent Coulson who is standing nearby.  
"We're sweeping every wireless accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops, if it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us." the agent replies.  
"It's still not gonna find him in time..." Banner hears Romanoff mumble to herself.

He frowns as he considers all the factors. Then, "You have to narrow your field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?"  
"How many are there?" Fury asks.

And as Banner replies, Captain and Simza just exchange uneasy glances. They are clearly the only two out of their depth in the subject of gamma radiation.

"Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm. Basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places."

Silence.

"Um...Yeah. Let's do that." Sterling says.  
"Agreed." Steve Rogers adds.  
They glance at each other again.

Fury just sighs.

"Romanoff," he says. "show the doctor to his laboratory please. And while you're at it, why don't you show Mr. Rogers around?" He lowers his voice. "I'm not liking the way those two are already starting to look like two cats that got into the cream."  
The spy tries not to laugh as she begins walking down the hall.

"Come on, doc. You, too Cap." she says as she goes. "I'll show you the rest of the aircraft."

And Simza begins to follow after her too, but Fury catches her by the arm before she makes it very far.

"Not. You." he says, eyeing her. "Sterling, I want to see you in the conference room."

Simza blinks at him once, both confused and somewhat startled by his sudden actions. For awhile, she says nothing, just studies the man's face, trying to glean what he wants from her this time.

In the background, the idle chatter of the others grows fainter and fainter as the seconds tick by.  
"'Tony'...Is that someone I should know?" Rogers asks.  
"No. But you will." Romanoff says. "Trust me. The size of his ego makes him kinda hard to ignore."

Finally, Simza nods.

* * *

"So. What do you want?" Sterling asks, turning on him the moment the door closes behind them.

She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the conference table, leaving a noticeably large gap between them.

"To know if I can trust you-" Fury begins.  
"Trust me?" Simza laughs. "Fury, I don't know if you remember, but last we met, _**you're**_ the one who-"  
"Agent Sterling." he interrupts coldly.

She quiets.

"...To know if SHIELD can trust you with this task." he finishes. "I know you concern yourself with Dr. Banner. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. But how deep does that concern run? How strong is it? Cause we can't have you running scared when we need you, the way you almost did last night."  
"How do you...?" Simza begins to frown.

Fury sighs.  
"Agent Romanoff sent me a report on what happened in India. And no, before you ask, she wasn't spying on you, agent. It's routine to collect the details of a mission."  
Simza nods. She remembers that much.  
"So my question to you is, can you handle the risks or not? Given what happened the last time you had a run in with the doctor, it makes sense you'd be on edge. But we have no room for uncertainties, Sterling. Not when the stakes are this high. I need a straight answer."

Simza takes in a slow, deep breath.  
Despite her ill-feelings towards him, the man is right.  
She can't let anything get in her way. She has to be able to keep Banner under control.

Not just for everybody else's sake, either.  
But for his own, too.  
For his own _**especially**_.

"...I can handle it..." Sterling murmurs. She blinks down at the floor. "What happened then wasn't his fault anyway. Some of it was SHIELD's...Some of it was mine."

And at that, the hard lines in Fury's face finally begin to relax.  
"Good of you to say so, agent."  
"Yeah, well. Some of us can own our mistakes." Simza answers pointedly.

For a moment, Fury says nothing.  
Just watches her with his good eye and in his face, she sees something like regret.  
But that only lasts for a brief second before he is back to normal again.

"Dismissed, Sterling." he says.  
He turns and stalks purposefully out of the room.

* * *

_Ellie Mills is a far cry from the pestering, prying presence he had once expected her to be.  
And by the morning of the **5****th** day, Banner has to admit, it's...odd having a stranger's home all to himself. And it's even odder sitting around all day, waiting for someone who will not return, with nothing to do but cautiously poke around her bookshelf to see if she's left him any other sticky note recommendations.  
_

_**Day 6** is when he finally, finally sees her again._  
_Completely by accident, too._

_Groggy and only half-awake, he sits up on the couch and sleepily shuffles over to the kitchen in the dark for some water._  
_He doesn't see the shadowy figure, digging through the pantry for a snack.  
But it sees him._

_"Jesus fuc-!" it starts to shriek, startling Banner, as well._

_But then,_

_"Oh." Simza breathes, one hand over her pounding heart. "It's only you! You scared me, Starch."_

_Somewhere in that sentence, her hand has found its way to him and is now resting lightly on his shoulder._  
_(A safety precaution to her. A friendly clap on the arm to him.)_

_He frowns, still a bit disoriented, and his hand feels along the wall for the light switch._

_Simza's eyes widen._  
_"What are you?...Hang on, don't-"_

_It's already too late._  
_And when the lights flicker on, she stands there like a deer caught in the headlights._

_"What on earth happened to you?..." Banner asks in his mild-manner, eyes wandering over her ragged form._  
_"What? Oh."_  
_She self-consciously drags her hand through her matted hair._  
_"Uh...Emergency at work. I had to run an errand for my boss today. Literally. Run."  
She laughs and Simza hopes it doesn't sound too nervous.  
__It doesn't._

_"What is it that you do for a living, anyway?" Banner asks._  
_"Oh. I'm just an assistant." Simza covers. "It's a big company and I get to do...all the dirty work for the higher ups." she says, gesturing to her stained shirt with a high-pitched titter. "'Dirty work'. Dirty. You know?"_  
_When Banner doesn't laugh at her terrible pun, Simza clears her throat._  
_"...Erm. Hm..." she mumbles. Then, to change the subject, "Right...Oh. I'm sorry that we always miss each other, by the way..."  
_  
_The distraction works automatically._

_"Uh...No, it's...it's okay." Banner says. "I just wanted to say...thanks. Thought I wouldn't get the chance."_

_And at this, the young woman smiles, a smile that only seems brighter to him in the wake of her unashamed, honest nature._

_"You're welcome." she answers._

_A silence passes between them, then, as they stand across the kitchen floor. Just two strangers who, all of a sudden, don't seem quite so strange to one another any more._

_Then, Simza glances at the clock._  
_3 a.m._

_"So, what are you doing up, Buck?" she asks, turning back to the pantry to grab a pack of crackers._  
_The pseudonym catches him off guard at first._  
_"Just getting some water. But seeing as how we're both awake now anyway..." he trails off as he heads over to the coffee machine, and Simza watches in confusion as he starts to brew up a fresh pot._

_"You don't have to..."_  
_"No, no. It's the least I could do."_  
_She gives him a strange smile._  
_"Coffee at dawn? Ooh, such a gentleman."_

_His hands pause._  
_"..."_

_And seeing this, Simza feels an odd pity worm its way into her heart again._  
_"Hey, I was just joking." she promises quietly. "I actually...well, really appreciate it. It's been a long night." she says with another laugh._

_When he doesn't answer, she cautiously begins, in a tone that is as light and unoffending as she can manage, "So. Why do I get the feeling that you're always trying to punish yourself for something? I mean, that first day, I know I said not to rob me, but I wouldn't have thrown you out for digging through the fridge for a bite to eat, you know."_

_He shifts awkwardly, but finally resumes spooning coffee grounds into a filter with his back turned towards her._  
_"I...uh...don't usually...hang around people. Not for very long, anyway." he says without looking at her.  
"Uh-huh. And why is that?"_

_"Because I could hurt them." he answers._

_For a moment, Simza can do nothing but stare._  
_Because she is just now starting to realize: for all the threat SHIELD had made the Hulk out to be, the one who fears him most, is the doctor himself.  
_  
_But even then, it is more than just fear._  
_It is a rotten, black hate, bleeding through every aspect of his life, making him lonely and lost and too full of self-loathing to disturb even ashes without shrinking and withering deeper and deeper inside of himself._

_"...Anybody is capable of hurting people, you know." she says quietly, laying her hand on his arm._  
_The man just shakes his head as if she doesn't understand._  
_"Nah, it's different for me. I...Once I get started, I don't know how to make myself stop, I go on rampage-..."_

_As he trails off, he frowns to himself, as if he isn't quite sure why he'd told her.  
Got caught up in the moment, he supposes._

_But Simza suddenly jerks her hand back and looks down at it, horrified._

_She'd never meant to coax that out of him._

_Just to calm him. To make him feel better..._

_And suddenly, she thinks back to all the other crimes she's committed, using this very same pair of hands._  
_All the weaknesses she's exploited, the pain she's caused, the scars she's left, even in just these past few days._  
_And she's never felt bad about a single one..._

_She'd carried out orders, believing herself to be making the world a better place simply because that's what Fury had told her she was doing._

_"Somebody's gotta do the dirty work..." she tells herself firmly, to quiet the doubt.  
"What?" Banner says.  
"Oh, nothing." she says quickly. "Um...I'm just amazed you're still here, if you're so...you know, afraid of that."  
He pauses._

_"Yeah, it's...it's kind of a shock to me, too." he says, glancing up at her at last._

_There is a kind look in his eyes._

_And Simza tries to smile back, but she knows the truth of why he's here and, suddenly, she finds herself feeling so dirty and wrong that she can't._

_"How about some late-night omelettes to go with that coffee?" Simza says instead.  
She doesn't wait for an answer before she busies herself with cooking._

_As they eat, they ask each other cautious questions about who they are, what they do._

_And every single one of those questions is answered with carefully constructed bits and pieces.  
Lies._  
_  
For her,  
'What's your job?' Office assistant.  
'You got any family?' Yes. But not here.  
'Who do you work for anyway?' It's a new company. You wouldn't know it._

_For him,  
__'What do you do for a living?' Pediatrician.  
'How'd you end up getting mugged?' Don't really remember.  
__'Why'd you come here in the first place?' To look for a job. I was thinking of moving out to the city._

_They play their parts, and they play them well._

_And despite the fact that they are each getting to know, not a real person, but a made-up character, an act, a role, by the time Banner and Sterling finally head off to bed, they find themselves both thinking they've enjoyed the company._

* * *

She shows up in the doorway of the lab with dripping wet hair a good hour later.  
Obviously fresh from a much-needed shower.

"So...How are things, Dr. Banner?" she asks.  
Banner peeks up at her through his metal-rimmed spectacles.  
"Uh...Fine." he answers, somewhat suspiciously.  
What she's doing here, now, in his lab of all places, is beyond him.  
She'd gotten him to join the group and that should have been it: the end of their association.

Because there is something about her that sets him strangely on-edge.  
Something that is starting to pry loose at a few memories he thought he had buried deep inside himself and locked there in the dark, dusty depths forever.  
(Not well enough, apparently.)  
And grudgingly, he sorts through the old faded pictures in his head until he finds the one he's been trying so hard to forget.

Ellie Mills.

Banner gives his head a small shake to be rid of the unbelievable despair suddenly gripping at his heart.

"I'm fine." he says again.

The woman nods at his short response and an odd silence fills the room as she shifts her weight back and forth between her feet uneasily.  
She seems uncomfortable, but she doesn't leave.

"So...are you just here to drip all over the equipment, or what?" Banner finally asks. His voice is not exactly welcoming, but not unkind either.  
(He doesn't think she deserves outright hostility, no matter her irritating presence.)

"What? No." she says. "I'm just, you know, checking in."

"Oh. Well...Everything's...Everything's good here. Thanks." he answers.

But the woman still doesn't budge an inch. Just stands there watching him, a conflicted expression on her face.

She's guarded and the exhaustion in her eyes isn't gone. (He starts to think it might be permanent.)  
But she's eager, too.  
Eager for what, he doesn't know.

"Hey, what exactly is your job here, anyway?" he asks.

It takes every ounce of will she possesses to keep from falling back into her old persona.  
'Ellie Mills'.

_Stay professional, _Simza thinks to herself. _Come on. You haven't screwed up a single mission in nearly 6 years. You're better than this. You can do it._

"I'll give you three guesses." she blurts.

_Damn it._

But the doctor just lets out a little sigh.  
He is a far cry from 'Buck Starch' now, and Simza can't help but wonder what's changed.  
She tentatively slides her hand along the countertops as she draws a little bit closer.

The doctor bristles, so she stops.

This close, and without her makeup on, he can see clearly the beginnings of faded white scars branching all across the left side of her face. Her right side is remarkably untouched.  
He tries not to stare.

"What happens if I guess wrong?" he asks, fiddling with a wire and a dial.  
"How about you answer a question for me?"  
"And if I get it right?"  
She thinks for a moment.  
"I'll treat you to some coffee. Real coffee. Not the awful swill they'll serve you tomorrow morning."

"Coffee..."  
At the word, the crease between his brows etches deeper into his face, but then, he lets out a breath and asks, "And what exactly counts as real coffee to you?"

She flashes him a wry smile, then digs out a pack of instant mix from the pocket of her sweatpants.  
He raises a brow at her.  
"Really? That?"  
"Don't judge me. I drink so much caffeine I know how to pick and choose and trust me on this; this stuff is the good stuff."

And he watches agape as she tears the edge off the packet, tilts her head back, and tips the powdered poison straight down her throat.

"You don't want to mix any hot water with that?" he asks dryly.  
"No. I need lots of caffeine. And fast."  
"...You're not, uh, planning to live for very long, are you?" he says, pulling his glasses from his face.  
She starts to laugh, but that turns into a wince as she swallows the gritty concoction down.

"I don't 'plan'. For now, i'm just trying to adjust to the routine of everyone else on this aircraft so...i'll be up for another, oh," She glances at her watch. "11 hours, give or take?" She sighs. "God, i'm gonna need about two more of these...Anyway, that's why i'm here. Everyone else is too busy to give me the time of day. Help me out here, huh?"  
"Wow...You really have a death wish." he mumbles, frowning down at the now empty packet of instant coffee.  
Simza shrugs.  
"Health hazards come with the job." she says. Then, she hops up onto the counter, giving him a meaningful tilt of her head and a slight smile. "Speaking of which..."

Hardly interested, he says, "Alright. Are you...a spy?"  
She smirks.  
"Almost."

"An assassin."  
"Colder. One more guess."

"...A soldier?"  
"Nope."

He doesn't want to ask.  
He means to make it absolutely clear.

_He's a danger to her. To everyone. And he has no control whatsoever.  
He never did..._

But she just waits until the silence is too uncomfortable for him _**not**_ to ask.

"Alright. What are you?" he says.

"I used to be an interrogator. I gathered intel, too." she answers, and she is starting to smile now, because he's given in and asked even though he'd made it clear he hadn't wanted to.  
"An intel gatherer." he nods. "And that's...different from a spy?"  
"They send spies in once they have a target. Intel gatherers make sure they always _**have**_ a target. Usually that means SHIELD just lets us loose in some foreign country to sniff out an impending disaster. When we find something, we report it in, see if SHIELD wants to make a case of it."  
"Sounds...riveting." Banner deadpans.

The woman laughs.  
"We get some interesting stuff every now and again." She gives him a side-long glance as she kicks her legs back and forth. "Remember how we said SHIELD never lost you? Well, i'm the one who...tracked your location down for them. And the one who kept everyone else off your trail."  
He just nods, bending over the screen of some complicated machine.  
_  
_"And what are you now?" he asks.  
"Now i'm just an info broker."  
"Really? 'Just' an info broker?" he says, quirking a brow at her. "I'm supposed to believe that that's...what, better than you being with SHIELD?"  
She thinks for a moment.  
"Maybe not better. But safer."  
"'Safer'..."  
"For everyone else, you know? If it's just me running the show, I have control over everything. No bystanders caught in the fire."  
"You expect me to believe you really do all that work by yourself?"

She shrugs.  
"Sometimes I hire on a temporary assistant. But they always know what they're getting into."

He turns on her then and his eyes are dark and stormy.  
"You use them." he says. His voice is still soft, but it stings in its accusatory tone. "You use them and you don't even feel guilty about it?"

Simza's jaw tightens.  
"I never said I didn't feel guilty." she says quietly. "I said they know what they sign up for."

His hard stare doesn't let up and after a second, Simza finds herself having to blink away.

"...When I let them go, they're happy, you know. And I try to keep them safe as best I can...Even if sometimes that means keeping them in the dark."

"Really." he answers, but it isn't a question. More a show of disbelief. "And how exactly do you protect them all by yours-..."  
Suddenly, his eye light in realization. "Oh...Oh no...You're one of us, aren't you?" he mumbles.  
He doesn't say the words out loud, but the meaning is clear enough.

_A freak show.  
_  
Sterling gives him a wry smile.  
"Something like that."

"Huh..."  
He nods in silence for awhile, idly fiddling with the temples of his glasses. Then, he lets out a sigh and turns his attention back to his work.

"So which particular brand of crazy are you? Mechanical breasts, super strength, ability to slow time?"  
"...'Mechanical breasts?"' she echoes, brow raised in both disgust and mild amusement.  
To that, at least, he looks sheepish.  
"That's...not an answer." he says.

Simza starts to smile, the faded white of her scars crinkling up along with the quirk of her lips.  
She glances down at her watch.  
"It's time for lunch, doctor. I'll tell you what. Let's get some food and i'll tell you what you want to know."

"Uh...No, thanks. I'm good." Banner answers.  
_He's not **that** curious._

She shrugs.  
"Suit yourself."  
And he watches as she lands on her feet and starts to head out.

"Hey, wait."  
Her hand stops as it rests on the door.  
"Yeah?"

He's got nothing.

"...You didn't ask your one question." Banner says, to stall for time.  
"No, I didn't." she says with a smile. "I'll save it for later."  
Which means she'll be back either way.

He lets out a sigh.

"Alright, i'll go."

And Simza breaks out into a real, actual smile then.

Things will never be the way they were.  
She knows that much is true.

But, bit by little bit, they're re-learning each other, at least.

This time, without the lies.

* * *

_**Day 6.**_

_They pretend it's coincidence when they meet again, at 3 a.m. the very next morning._

_"Can't sleep?" she asks, but she wears a knowing smile._  
_And he might feel just a little afraid about being caught out, except for the fact that **she** is already changed out of her work clothes and is instead wearing a comfortable pair of sweats and a hoodie; c__lothes made for curling up in a chair with something hot to drink and good company._  
_(Well, maybe not 'good', exactly._  
_But...company. Of some sort.)_

_He starts to smile._

_And it's one that Simza finds she likes.  
Gentle. Hesitant.  
Almost shy._

_"No sugar. No cream. Right?" she says, rising to her feet and walking towards the coffee machine.  
"Uh...Yeah." he answers, even though he doesn't need to. _

_He doesn't understand why.  
Why **anything. **_  
_But with her, he's starting to think he never will._  
_But that's okay._

_Because in her admittedly lame sense of humor and awkward acts of kindness, he is beginning to find something like comfort, something like home._  
_Something like...a life._  
_Beyond running and hiding and running again._  
_From both the world and from himself._

**_Day 7.  
_**_The next morning, when he wakes up, she is not gone.  
__In fact, it is her snores that wake him in the first place._

_He lets out an exhausted sigh of irritation as they rattle the building._  
_And then he realizes..._

_Work._

_Grudgingly, he forces himself off of the couch and raps his knuckle against the door._  
_He has to try three times before he hears a response._

_"Mnn...?"_  
_"Ellie, don't you have to get to work?" he asks._  
_A light groan and incoherent mumbles. Then, "I only work nights now."_

_Banner freezes as a horrid thought crosses his mind._  
_Is this his fault somehow?..._

_But then, the bedroom door suddenly swings wide open and a grumpy-looking Ellie Mills greets him, her hair looking as wild and unkempt as a tornado._  
_"Don't worry." she grumbles, hardly awake. "I asked my boss for this."_

_And then the door promptly shuts in his face, and not even a full minute later, the snores resume._

_Banner blinks at nothing for a good long moment before he finally lets out an astounded chuckle._

_No more waiting for her to come back._

_With everything she's already given him, still she gives him this one thing more._

_And that terrifies him._  
_And enthralls him._

* * *

Hope it was okay?...


	4. The Things They Hold Inside Their Hearts

_Hello to all my new readers! I really appreciate all the follows, favorites, reviews, and even if you're just a silent reader, thank you, thank you! I'm sorry for updating so late! I'm usually a lot faster, but this story is one of the most challenging things i've ever written. __Yikes. I don't think i've ever struggled with writing as much as i'm struggling now, ya'll...  
I know the dad story is grim, but he doesn't play any more part in this story so hopefully it's not too much to handle..._

_Still, I hope you enjoy!_

_P.S. Final exams are coming up, you guys! Hope everyone does well! Good luck!_

* * *

By the time Banner and Sterling arrive at the mess hall, the first round of crew members have already finished inhaling their food and are all hurrying to return their empty tin trays so that they can get back, and tag the next group of hungry agents in.  
The entire lot of them are in a race against time, after all.

**They**, however, are not.  
And so, after Banner and Simza walk to the counter and take up their own trays of pasta salad, a sandwich, and some fruit, they retreat to the back table so that the steady flow of agents, tech specialists, soldiers and more, can continue to come and go undisturbed.

"So what exactly are your powers anyway?" Banner asks, settling his elbows on the table.

Simza's fingernail stops picking at the edges of a sticker on her bright green apple and she grins at him. (And Banner finds it unsettling just how pleased a grin it is. He finds it unsettling just how..._**happy**_ his simple question seems to make her.)

"Oh, right. That." the woman says. "Well...my powers...my powers are-"

"Powers?" a new voice suddenly interrupts.  
Simza jumps.  
And then, both the doctor and the info broker look up to see none other than Steve Rogers standing there, plaid shirt neatly tucked into his jeans, leather jacket slung over his arm, and tray in his hands.  
Of course, Romanoff is with him.

"Hey, you." Simza says to the Captain brightly.  
She can't help but take a liking to him. She isn't sure why. Maybe it's his determined, heartbreakingly hopeful sense of justice. (The one that reminds her so much of the person she could have been once.) Or, maybe it's just his good hair and friendly face.

Maybe it's both.

"Is this seat taken?" Rogers asks.

"No, uh...By all means..." Banner answers.

The Captain gives a nod of thanks before he slides into the seat besides him. Romanoff settles next to Simza instead and the two women exchange their own brief nods of greeting before they turn their attention back to their food.

"So. Agent Sterling," Rogers says. "you were saying something about powers. Care to brief me on the details?"  
Simza snorts ever-so-gracefully through a mouthful of fruit.  
Still, she does have the good grace to chew and swallow before she actually attempts a response.

"You mean you haven't already heard?"  
"Agent Coulson hasn't told me anything about you actually. Neither has Fury." Rogers says. "I'm assuming that means they just haven't had the time, but on the off-chance that they've actually forgotten," He tips his head in her direction. "i'm hoping you can help fill in the gaps."  
Simza shrugs.  
"Fair enough. Let's see...Um..." She squints up at the ceiling as she tries to recall the hazy details. "Well, i'm a former SHIELD agent. Started at the age of 23? No, 24. I stayed for 5 years, but..." And suddenly Simza blinks down at her hands. "I left...after an incident that happened about a year ago."

"I don't understand. You 'left SHIELD'?" the Captain quotes with a frown.

Simza nods but doesn't elaborate, and so, Rogers tries to inquire further.  
Thankfully, Romanoff swoops in to save him from making that mistake.  
"Cap, don't..." she warns, quietly.

Hearing that, Simza's mouth curls into a wry smile.  
"It's okay, Natasha." she says.  
And so, after a breath, Romanoff tries explain- as vaguely and in as much a quick, gentle tone as she can, so as not to drudge up one too many old memories.

"In the time she spent working for us, Sterling was forced to make...a lot of sacrifices. That's true for every SHIELD agent, Cap, you know that. But the ones she had to make, they weren't always...necessary ones." Romanoff shrugs. "So she tried to leave. Fury tried to stop her, of course: he needed her powers, but the less freedom he gave her, the harder she fought to get out. Eventually, even he had to give in."

Throughout all of this, Rogers listens attentively, brows furrowed in concentration as he thinks the story through. When it is over, he still wears a puzzled frown.  
"What exactly did Fury do?" he asks, to nobody in particular.

And nobody in particular answers.  
Banner, because he has no clue.  
Romanoff, because it isn't her place to say.  
Simza, because it still just..._**hurts**_.

But the Captain keeps waiting for his answer and so, Simza lets out a little sigh.

"...I made a choice that wasn't really a choice," she says softly. "in exchange for a promise he didn't keep."

"...Didn't keep? Or couldn't?" Rogers asks.

Her eyes are cold and black, her voice, sharp and biting when she answers,  
"Didn't."

And finally, the Captain lets the matter drop.

Banner, who has been eating in silence this whole time, sneaks a glance at Simza now.  
Because not having a choice?  
That is something he understands.

And suddenly, some part of him can't help but feel for her just a little bit, but then, her suddenly tired eyes catch on his and that strange sense of _**familiarity**_ creeps into his veins once again and his sympathy vanishes.

"If you're so against SHIELD, why did you come back?" he finds himself asking.

_Why did you come back?  
_A question that echoes in his mind long after the words leave his lips.  
A fitting one, too.  
For Simza, of course, but also for the _**her**_ in his memories.

Sterling gives him an exhausted smile in return.  
"Remember when I said the tesseract could wipe out the planet?"  
He nods.

"Well, I sort of like having my life." she laughs simply.

But Banner just shakes his head.  
"Nah, see? You're not answering my question. You said you were, what, an info broker? Suppose that that's true. The only information SHIELD needs is what I can give them: the location of the object. That's science, not contacts and interrogation and pointed guns. So why did you come back?"

She blinks at him, stunned by his unexpected attention to her story.

"Well...I'm here because-"  
_-of you_, Simza wants to say, but all of a sudden, someone rests their foot threateningly against hers underneath the cover of the table.  
Romanoff flashes her a quick look.

_Don't blow your cover.  
We don't need an incident.  
He won't take well to us thinking we can't trust him._

Given what Simza knows of the doctor, she finds some cause to doubt that last one.  
She hardly thinks anyone can distrust him more than he does himself, and he's become even more afraid, even more guarded, against people now than he used to be. But still, for the sake of the spy's satisfaction, "...-because of my powers." she mutters in the end.

"Powers...So we're back to that, then..." Banner says.  
Simza shrugs.  
"Guess so."  
"Okay, so then what are those powers exact-" he tries to ask.

But just then, Agent Coulson appears in the entrance of the hall and strides swiftly across the room towards them, the badge clipped to his suit swinging about like a wild pendulum in his hurry.  
"Tasha," he gasps when he reaches the table. Then, spying the Captain out of the corner of his eye, he clears his throat, fidgets a bit, and nods timidly. "Captain."  
Rogers nods in return, and then Coulson returns to the matter at hand. "There's something urgent we need to discuss."

The spy bites back a smile at that.  
"Calm down, Phil. I've already asked and Cap says he'd be happy to sign your trading cards any time you-"

"What? No, it's...not that." he says with an embarrassed shake of his head.  
"Then what?" Romanoff asks. "Your T-shirt? Your lunchbox, your-"  
"No, it's-"  
"-your poster, your-"

And then, to cover his embarrassment, the words come bursting out all at once.  
"TashawefoundLoki."

_And maybe Barton, too._

The implication isn't lost on her, and so, at those words, Romanoff's green eyes widen in surprise first. Then, her expression quickly sobers into one of severity instead.  
"Where?" she asks, all business now.  
"Stuttgart, Germany. We'll be there by nightfall."  
"Which means we have to start preparing now." Romanoff says.

The man nods.

And then the red-headed spy is immediately on her feet.  
"Come on, Cap. Let's go." she says.  
Rogers doesn't quite understand the urgency, but he follows anyway.  
"Right behind you, ma'am."  
"You know, you can skip the 'ma'am' with me too, Cap." Romanoff says as they go, without so much as a goodbye or another glance at Banner or Sterling.

They don't mind.

"So...Phil, you have a Captian America lunchbox?" Simza asks, starting to smirk.  
For a while, Coulson's just blinks his bright blue eyes rapidly and his mouth opens and shuts over and over again as he considers how to respond. In the end however, he settles for looking taciturnly off into the distance, hands clasped together in a very professional manner.

"...Yes."

Sterling stifles a giggle at that, and even Dr. Banner has to smother a quiet amused chuckle.  
"...Vintage?" Simza asks, after a moment.  
Coulson nods.  
His face is most definitely flushed now, and seeing this, Simza's expression softens.

"Hey Phil," she says. "once this is all over, i'll show you my nerd collection if you'll show me yours."

Coulson casts her a suspicious glance, thinking she is just setting him up for more teasing.

"No tricks, I swear." she promises. "I used to think that Iron Man was _**the**_ coolest." Simza admits. "Collected a ton of crap. Magazines, little action figures, the whole nine yards. Of course, that was before I actually met him and well, you know." She winces. "...Don't ever tell Stark I told you this."  
And finally, Coulson breaks out into his normal, cheerful smile.

"You always were one of the good ones, Sterling." he says.  
Simza laughs.  
"Don't I know it." she quips dryly. Then, "You probably better get back now, huh?"  
The man nods.  
"I'll see you later, agent." And to Bruce, "It was good meeting you, doctor. If you have any concerns, be sure to let us know."  
"Thanks, I will." Banner replies.  
"And i'll talk to someone about the, you know, staring, too. So no worries."

"Staring?..." Banner echoes.

_So he hadn't even noticed.  
Oops.  
_  
Coulson's face immediately screws tight.  
"Nevermind." he says. And then the man ducks his head down and hurries away again.

When he has disappeared from sight, Banner and Sterling both frown as they look around the room and, sure enough, every few seconds, _**someone**_ turns their head in their direction and scatters a few uneasy glances at the pair.  
The looks are quick and discreet and if it were just one group of agents doing it, it would be subtle enough not to be noticed.  
But it happens at every table.  
At every turn.

Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes.  
Nervous shifting. Furrowed brows.  
Not hate, at least.  
Just concern.  
And a little bit of fear.

Makes sense, Banner thinks to himself glumly. He's not exactly the ideal person to be contained in a pressurized metal vessel with, after all.  
So, he tries to shrug it off and Simza follows suit.

But all of a sudden, with the pressure of now _**knowing**_ a hundred eyes are all focused on them, their table feels a whole lot emptier than it did before...

Simza stuffs a bite of sandwich in her mouth.  
Banner lifts a forkful of pasta to his.

Silence.

Then,  
"...You wanna head back to the lab?" she asks.  
"Yeah." he answers.

* * *

**_Day 8._**

_Time with her passes quickly.  
_  
_He thinks it's because he spends so **much** of that time watching her and wondering, and so little of it considering how to actually respond to the things she says._

_But it is strange to suddenly see her in the light of day, __without the excuse of meeting by accident. And now, whatever sense of closeness he had been feeling before has morphed into a slightly tentative and awkward discomfort instead._  
_Thankfully, she, at least, is a quick adapter and after only one full morning of him dancing evasively around her, is able to settle them both into a dynamic that works.  
For the most part._

_This is how it starts:_

_"I think the apartment could use a spot of cleaning today, don't you?" Simza says, breaking a silence that's stretched on all throughout a very late breakfast. She frowns at the dust swirling around in the sunlight and so Banner blinks his eyes and turns his head this way and that, too.  
"Uh...Yeah, okay. Sure." he says uncertainly.  
She laughs at that.  
"You don't have to help if you don't want to, Starch."  
"No, no, no. I...I do. " he insists._

_She blinks at him._  
_He blinks back, a little awkwardly, and he shifts in his seat under the weight of her gaze, but his sincerity is unquestionable._

_"Oookay then. If you're sure..." she says at last. She hops to her feet. "Come on. Dishes first!"_

_That is all it really takes._

_Because as they clean, she begins to talk about this and that and everything, and he just tries not to muck things up as he helps._

_Because he's never really sure just how to react to her easy sense of composure around him and, every once in awhile, from his place beside her, all he can do is let out a small chuckle or a "Yeah." or a "Right..." to let her know that he is paying attention._

_Surprisingly enough, those paltry things are enough to keep her happy._  
_(He marvels at the fact that his attention could actually **make** someone that happy. Then again, maybe anyone's attention would be enough. Even if it wasn't his...)_

_"Whew! Alright, book shelf next!" she chimes with a satisfied smile and a tired huff.  
He follows her as she walks over, making sure to hang back a polite distance, but then..._

_"You know, it's just occured to me that i've never actually seen you leave the apartment."_

_She turns on him so abruptly that the sudden closeness of her to him makes all his thoughts dissipate.  
__And as he looks down at her, he unknowingly starts to familiarize himself with the lines of her face and the smell of her hair and the dark patches underneath her eyes instead._

_"Uh...Sorry?" he says._

_She laughs (the shape of her cheek a soft curve, hints of fresh linen and some flower he doesn't know the name of, dark patches turn into rings as her eyes crinkle in merriment) and repeats herself._

_"Yeah...I...guess not." Banner replies absently._

_She turns her back and continues walking, oblivious to the moment that's just passed.  
"We should get out after we're done, then. Maybe get some food? Go for a walk? What do you think?"_

_"Sure." he finds himself saying before he realizes._

_"Great! Oh, I know this one place that has a really good..."  
And she is off again._

_This time, he can't bring himself to pay attention. Not completely, anyway._  
_His thoughts are too distracted, and every time Banner pulls a stack of books from the shelf, he just frowns down at himself because this is a very, very stupid and strange thing that he's done._

_He can't **learn** people._  
_He can't **know** them._

_And yet...here he is, doing just those things and he's been without incident for a week._

_"...and she kept telling him to back off, but literally, this asshole, he wouldn't listen. Well, of course he wouldn't 'cause he was drunk as hell, but anyway, so this poor girl, she was just standing there completely terrified. What could I do, you know? He was 6 feet, i'm barely 5'2 and I didn't want to cause a scene, but...well, I punched him and he crashed into this statue and anyway, that's why i'm banned from **that** restaurant. It's kind of a shame. You could have tried the best Tikka Masala in your entire life, today. Then again, that bastard totally deserved it. God, people like that, they just..."  
Ellie shakes her head and starts on a new rampage, complete with dramatic impersonations and wild gestures._

_And as she draws Banner's attention back away from himself, he doesn't even notice the barest hint of a smile starting on his face at just the sight of her.  
"Here." he says, holding out the next armful of books._

_She breathes out on a huff._  
_"Thanks."_

_"...So, uh, what happened after that?" Banner says._

_(He tries to convince himself that he doesn't know why he's asked._  
_But the strange, nervous thrill he feels when her hand accidentally brushes against his?_  
_It tells him otherwise.)_

* * *

Even there, hidden away from all the scrutiny, the tension in the air is thick and suffocating as he waits for the inevitable pity.  
He doesn't want it. He doesn't need it.  
He is determined not to give her the chance to show it.

So he keeps his focus razor sharp and busies himself with this and that around the tidy lab as she sits in the corner and twirls around on her, well,_** his**_, chair.

"So." she says, breaking the silence.  
He cringes as he waits for her to continue.

"About my powers."

He frowns.  
"What?"

She arches a brow at him.  
"You asked about them, didn't you?" she says.

"Oh. Yeah...I guess I did." he mumbles.  
And he knows it's not a good idea to ask about them a _**fourth**_ time seeing as how he's trying so hard to _**distance **_himself from her, and not make her think think that they're actual friends or anything of the sort.  
But then again, right now, he figures that is better than talking about anything else, so he gives in.  
"So...were you a test tube experiment or what?"

"No. That was my father, actually. And he was a huge jackass, according to SHIELD's files on him, so I figure I haven't missed anything by never having met him." she sighs.

He quirks a brow at her then.  
"Really? A 'jackass'? But agents of SHIELD are usually so...noble."  
His tone is light but dripping with his special brand of gentle sarcasm and Simza smiles at the sound of it.

"He wasn't an agent. Just one of those SHIELD experiments gone wrong. You know." She gives him a shrug before she continues. "My mother, on the other hand, was a nuclear chemist who didn't know she was pregnant until she got the, you know, baby bump or whatever the kids call it these days. So right there, you have a recipe for disaster. The disaster, of course, being me." She frowns then and glances down at her haggard appearance. "In more ways than one, I guess..." she snorts.

"What'd your father do that was so bad?"

Simza sighs again as she kicks her leg against the wall and takes another spin in the chair.  
"Oh, nothing so great as stealing a giant power source and potentially leading the entire world to doom or anything." she responds. "He was just...your average, power-high murderer, really..."

Banner frowns.  
A _**murderer**_.  
And she says it like it's so goddamned normal.

"He was just a soldier, at first. Volunteered to undergo experimentation for money and they chose him because he had no friends or family to leak the secrets to."  
The turning stops and suddenly, she looks at him. "See, they were trying to find a way to save agents on the field, in the middle of battles or even war, you know?

Dr. Banner nods at that.  
He understands how useful that could be.  
"So what went wrong?" he asks.

"Well, they succeeded, actually. Gave him the ability to turn invisible and his hands the ability to mend skin, but the process...God..." she trails off with a shake of her head. "It was...hard. A lot of pain. And they never factored in the risk of it turning him into a crazy sadist." she adds with a wry laugh.

"A what?"

She sighs impatiently.  
"A crazy sadist. You know...?"

He doesn't.

"Okay, say you're walking down the street. You get kidnapped by someone you never actually see and they cut into you, dig parts out, heal the skin over. Then they do it again and again and again. Just for fun. Sure, they let you go after awhile, but they follow you everywhere and they talk to you and the voice threatens to kill you if you tell anyone about what's happened and it makes you think that you're crazy. Sometimes, you can even see someone there, but nobody believes you..." Simza trails off suddenly. Because it sounds so much worse when she says it out loud and even though it isn't her that's done those things, she feels ashamed. "...Eventually, you kill yourself or you drop down dead from the injuries and nobody knows exactly why..."

"...And...this has to do with your powers how?..." Banner asks uncertainly.  
Because it's an awful, terrible thing, to have ties to someone that completely mad, but he's not really so good at sympathizing.

Simza just cracks a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.  
"It has to do with my powers because I was supposed to be born with those abilities too." she says. "But, my mother was exposed to some radiation during an incident that happened before she knew she was pregnant and it ended up mutating the genes into something...a little different. I'm half of him, in a way, you know? Instead of turning invisible, I make people forget me. And instead of healing people, my hands can put them into an almost comatose state of...well, let's just call it...bliss."

"...You calm people." Bruce mumbles, finally piecing all the parts together.

Sterling pauses just for a second before she nods.

"So the reason you're not going out there with all the others, it's me isn't it?"

She knows she isn't supposed to do it.  
But she wants to trust him.  
And she wants him to trust her.

Even now.

"...Yeah."

He thinks that over for a very long time and the whole while, Simza watches him, trying to read the frown etched deep into the lines of his face.  
A lock of graying, dark brown hair sweeps across his forehead and he pushes it back with a sigh as he glances up at her suddenly, and catches her staring.

Simza swallows a hard lump in her throat, but doesn't turn her gaze from his.

And Banner finally lets himself look at her then, really look at her.  
And he tries to pick out all of the things that make her distinctly _**different**_ from Ellie Mills because if Simza is going to be around all the time, he needs to know that he can find a way to push down the choking grief.

_The scars._  
_Just focus on the scars, and you'll be fine, Banner..._

He blinks down at his wires and dials and screens.  
"Guess you're gonna be around here a lot, then, huh?..." he says out loud.

It'll be okay.  
He'll be fine.  
Just fine.

But then, he glimpses Sterling's face relaxing into a smile that he's not ever seen her wear before, and he realizes that maybe he _**won't**_ be fine at all.

He digs his nails into his palm and looks away.

* * *

_Before he steps outside, he lingers at the entrance for just a second._  
_To tell himself that he can do this. He can keep 'the other guy' in check.  
He can handle one evening out._

_And she, for reasons unknown to him, doesn't tell him to hurry._  
_She just patiently waits on the other side of the threshold, for him to make it to her on his own time.  
As a light breeze picks up and tossles her hair, she pulls the cardigan she's thrown over her plain t-shirt tighter around her shoulders and blinks at him._

_And finally, Banner balls his hand into a fist and he walks,__ cautiously edging out of the confines of the building and into the world once again._

_One tiny step._  
_Then another._  
_And then another._

_He comes to a stop before her and takes a breath.  
_  
_"Lead the way..." he says after a moment._

_She smiles at him.  
"Let's go."_

* * *

_"You know, you've never really told me a whole lot about you." she says, as they stroll along the pathway that cuts through the local park._

_The spring air is clear and clean and good here, and as they pass through the shadows of the trees, the white of her shirt looks suddenly starker, the red of her cardigan, darker, the blue of her worn jeans, deeper, against the rich, emerald green in the background._  
_Silhouettes of twisting branches and swaying leaves dance against the side of her cheek and neck as they walk together, and then, they pass into the sun once again and the light catches in her hair instead as she struggles to match her shorter strides to his quick shuffles.  
_  
_Slipping his hands into his pockets, Banner slows his pace. Just a little.__  
_

_"Yeah? I don't know, I think I told you a pretty good amount." he replies with a shrug._  
_"Yeah. Facts. Nothing personal." she argues pleadingly. "And that's only when you actually, you know, talk."_  
_The corners of his eyes crinkle kindly as he laughs._  
_"Alright. Well, uh...What else do you want to know?" he asks._

_She brightens immediately.  
_  
_"Oh...I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" he mumbles._  
_She grins. "Probably, but you've already said yes, Dr. Starch. And there are no takesies backsies. Not in my house." _  
_"...We're not in your house. We're outside, Ellie."_  
_She just shoots him a look and he chuckles.  
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. What's your first question?"_

_This time, he talks and she listens. And he comes as daringly close to telling her **real** stories about his life, as he can. For some reason, he wants to, and the words flow much easier than he expects.  
_

_Before he knows it, they are sitting in the dim, cozy waiting room of a small Italian restaurant and he gets to telling her about Betty Ross._  
_And when he's finished, she is watching him with eyes that somehow seem to both stab at his insides and soothe the wounds over at the same exact time._

_"So...you had someone once." Ellie says._  
_"Yeah. I, uh, did." Banner answers. He gives a casual shrug. "That was years ago though. I haven't seen her or heard from her in...a really long time."_  
_"...Maybe you could look her up again?" she offers hopefully._  
_"Nah," comes the answer. "I'm sure she's moved on by now...and well, we always just...wanted different things. It's why I left." he lies._

_She goes quiet as she nods and suddenly, the silence between them is so stifling that, without thinking, Banner asks, "What about you?"_  
_"What about me, what?" she asks._  
_"Do you have someone?"_  
_She laughs at that._  
_"I would have thought that answer would be obvious to a smart guy like you." she replies. "Messy house, messy clothes, perpetually messy life..." she snorts._

_As soon as she says those last words, she winces at her mistake._  
_But fortunately, Banner is just looking off absently into the distance, only half-listening._

_"Well, that might be true, but...I think you've got a suitor, Ellie."_  
_"A what?" she deadpans._  
_"Look." _  
_And when she does, she sees a little boy of no older than 5, shyly peeking out from behind his mother's legs. _  
_He blinks his huge, dark brown eyes at her from underneath a soft fluff of black hair and Simza starts to smile._

_The boy blushes and gives her a little wave with a tiny hand, and then, he clutches tighter to his mother until she glances down and chastizes him for nearly pantsing her in public as they exit the restaurant.  
_  
_"Looks like your pretty popular." Banner chuckles.  
_  
_Simza shrugs, still grinning._  
_"He was cute and all, but I don't know. I usually go for people a little...taller." she jokes._

_"Yeah?...I guess you could say you've got pretty **high** standard then, huh?"  
_  
_Simza laughs._  
_"Oh, no. I've been a bad influence on you, haven't I?..."  
_  
_"That you have, Ms. Mills." comes the answer.  
_  
_They lapse into silence once again, but then_, _she flashes him a quick glance and is suddenly trying to hide a smirk herself.  
_  
_"I guess, in a way, I have made you...**punnier** though."_

_Banner groans._  
_"Alright. That one was just bad, Ellie."_

_"Hey, give me some credit." she protests. "I had nothing to work with!"_

* * *

_They make it halfway through dinner before it happens._

_Her phone chimes._  
_She glances at the screen._

_Her face falls._

_"Ellie...Everything okay?" he asks cautiously._

_She jolts out of some dazed stupor and tries to smile._

_"Yeah. Just my boss." she answers, a little too quickly. "See, there's this project he's trying to get me involved in and I haven't been...cooperating, I guess. Don't worry about it."  
__She shuts her phone off and shoves it underneath her thigh. Then, she continues telling her joke about a snail and an old man before he can say anything else about it._

_After awhile, they are conversing as easily as they had been before and Banner could almost forget entirely the odd moment that had just passed.  
__But every few seconds, between more bad puns and good stories, her eyes flicker downward and he can see her jaw clench and her brow crease and her hands shake.  
In anger? In fear? In sadness?  
He doesn't know.  
And he doesn't try to know.  
If she wanted to talk about it, she would, he figures._

* * *

_When they return home that night, feeling sleepy and happily stuffed full of good food, Simza fidgets in front of the sofa for long moment instead of retreating into her bedroom as she usually does, to get ready for work._

_"You know, I had fun today...We met in a really weird way, Starch," she laughs gently. "but...i'm...glad that we did."_

_She offers up a small smile in the dark and then, she does something so unexpected that it takes a moment for Banner to recognize exactly what it is, through his attempt to recover from her surprisingly soft words.  
_  
_Slowly, she lifts her hand and tentatively reaches it out towards him.  
(Because a hug seems too intimate just yet, but leaving him nothing at all, seems too cold.)_

_She looks at him expectantly._

_And he just stares stupidly back._

_"Erm...You're not...planning on...leaving me hanging like this, are you?" Ellie stammers, cheeks flushing when he doesn't move._  
_  
Banner jumps.  
__"Oh...I'm sorry..." he manages._

_And then, he closes the distance between them in two unsteady strides and he curls his warm, rough fingers around hers.  
_  
_By some strange, sheer impulse, their eyes slowly drift upward until they find each other's._

_And when it happens,_

_He doesn't blink._  
_He doesn't breathe._

_She doesn't either._

_And both of them, as they stand there like that looking at each other, they can feel something new, the smallest spark, catch in the trappings of both their heavy, guilt-ridden chests.  
_

_He pulls away first._

_"You'd, uh, better get going, Ellie..." he murmurs._

_Reluctantly__, she nods.  
Then, she glances at her watch.  
_  
_"Oh. Shite." she breathes. "I gotta go..."_

_And then, the moment is over and she is making a mad dash for her wardrobe as Banner settles on the sofa and rests his weary head in his hands._

* * *

"Lord, help me. I'm dying." Simza groans, throwing back another pack of powdered coffee mix. It's her fifth one today, and now, it's nearly 9 p.m. If she can just survive a few more hours, she can _**sleep **_but, gods, it is getting excruciatingly difficult to keep her eyes open.

Banner just offers a halfway sorry smile from across the lab.

"You're no help at all, you know that?" Simza says bitterly.  
"That, I do." comes the answer.

She sighs, slumping over the desk and for a moment, everything is quiet, much to Banner's relief. (The whole day she has been chattering away about something or other and so, silence is a welcome, and much-needed relief.)  
But then,

"Is it weird I have no idea what half of this stuff even is?"

He jumps at the sound because it is so much closer than he had expected.  
When he looks up, he realizes she is hovering over the table he is working at, just a few mere inches away.

Sterling lifts a bright blue device with an odd dial before setting it back down, gingerly.

"You're...an info broker. And you don't know?" he asks.

She just shrugs. "Oh, I could dig up the names of all this stuff from somewhere. And a string of huge, intelligent sounding drivel that someone would pay me good money for, i'm sure. I don't have always to know what something_** means**_ to sell it, you know. Everybody's got something worth knowing, even if they don't, well, _**know**_ it themselves yet."  
She smiles.

"...Right…"

Suddenly, from somewhere down the hallway, there is a multitude of loud footsteps, stamping nearer and nearer to them, and Banner and Simza glance at each other in confusion, at first.

Then, "They must be back." Simza muses.

And sure enough, just seconds later, she sees an odd man in a strange getup being escorted past the doorway guarded by a veritable platoon of soldiers.

As they pass, he, Loki, turns his head. Looks right at the both of them.

No...

Looks right at...Banner.

And he flashes the man a white, white grin that sends an uneasy chill running up Simza's spine.  
Then, he disappears around the bend.

"...So that was Loki, huh?" Banner mumbles. "...Seems like a fun guy."

Before Simza can respond, another figure comes into their field of view.  
"Doctor, Sterling," Romanoff says, poking her head in through the door. "We need you in the conference room."

* * *

_**Days 9-14.**_

_The job is something serious._

_He can understand that now in the glazed, bloodshot eyes that only grow continually worse as the days go by, and in the restless tossing and turning he can hear from just the other side of the bedroom door every morning._

_He still sees her every day._  
_But even then, she spends most of her time locked in her room arguing with someone over the phone._

_He catches bits and pieces of conversation here and there._  
_Something about 'family' and 'how could you even suggest that' and 'they won't tell anyone, I swear'._

_He can't make any sense of it, but that doesn't matter because he won't be interested in learning the details if she doesn't want him to be._

_He'll settle, instead, for whatever she is willing to give._

* * *

"Wow. Suddenly, we've got a whole party here." Sterling says, as she ducks into the room behind the doctor and the spy.

Along with Rogers, there are two new faces in the room. Well, one new face, actually. Because the other one belongs to none other than Tony Stark himself.

When he sees her, he raises his brows in recognition and Simza just sighs, bracing herself for what's to come.

"Uh. Who let in the stray?" Stark questions, taking in her haphazard appearance.

"...Good to see you again as well, Mr. Stark." Sterling answers.  
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Tony says. He makes a point of not even bothering to look at her and the others exchange glances of bewilderment. Particularly puzzled, is the man wearing a deep red...cape? (Simza makes a mental note to find out more about _**him**_ later.)

"Is something the matter here, Sterling?" Rogers asks her.  
"No." Simza replies. "Mr. Stark here is just being a little pouty about something that happened a few months ago." She looks at the man with a pointed eye and he shifts just a little under the intensity of her glare.

"No, sorry. Don't remember you." Stark insists. "Although, I do remember hiring someone who sort of looks like you, now that you mention it. Of course, the girl I hired looked a tiny bit less like, well, how should I put this nicely? A backstabbing traitor. No offense."

"It was Ms. Potts who hired me, Stark." Simza corrects. "For the info that started your entire clean energy campaign. And, oh please, just because you're still wounded that I rejected your job offer for a permanent position at Stark Industries, doesn't give you the right to call me a-"

"Uh. Wrong. She never hired you. Neither did I." Stark says. "I just said someone who _**looks **_like you." To the others, "Is she broken? Deaf? Hard of hearing?"

"_**She**_ hired me, _**you**_ fired me." Sterling says, arms crossed over her chest. "Although, that was only after i'd already finished the job so that technically doesn't even count-"

"Uh. Oh. I remember now." he interrupts loudly with a strange laugh. "Uh-huh. After you begged for a position as a...lowly little receptionist, I let you go for...What was it again? Oh yeah. Compulsive lying-"  
"You are such an ass-"  
"foul language-"  
"You have got to be fuc-"  
"-and unprofessional behavior." Stark finishes, flashing her a smug smile.

Simza narrows her eyes.  
"Are you finished? You done?"

He shrugs lightly.

"Okay. Yeah. Good." she says.  
And she marches over him and plants a solid kick right in his shin.

Rogers, and the cape man both snort with laughter as _**the**_ Iron Man doubles over in pain.

"Urgh...I'm fine." Stark lies. He puffs out a slow, heaving breath before he tries to straighten again. "Yeup...I'm good."

"You deserved that one, Stark." Romanoff says to him with a smirk.  
"You humans are so petty." the cape man laughs.

Banner just looks around the room uneasily.

"What, uh...exactly are we doing here?" he asks Romanoff quietly.

From across the room, Stark seems, at last, to notice him and he makes to go over and speak, but Agent Romanoff, remembering her duties, suddenly calls the meeting to a start.

"Gentlemen." she says, standing at the head of the room. "And Sterling. Fury is talking with Loki right now. He has him trapped in a cell that should be strong enough to keep him, but things aren't going as well as he expected. We need to know more." she explains. "That's where you come in." she says to the man in the cape.

"Thor, what's his play?" Rogers asks.

The well-muscled man crosses his arms as he paces a few steps.  
"He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not of Asgard nor any other world known." he says hesitantly. "He means to lead them...against your people. They will win him the earth in return, I suspect, for the tesseract."

"So, what. An army of aliens?" Simza questions in disbelief.

"He's building another portal." Dr. Banner realizes.  
"Then...that's what he needs Eric for..." Romanoff murmurs, beginning to catch on as well.

"Who?" Thor frowns.

"He's an astrophysicist. Loki has him under some kind of spell...Along with one of ours..." the spy explains.  
She falls into a distracted silence and after a moment, Rogers takes over with, "I want to know why Loki let us take him. He's not commanding an army from inside here."

Suddenly, a new voice cuts in and everyone turns at the sound of it.  
"That," Fury says. "is exactly what I intend to find out."

Romanoff jumps back to attention.

"Sir." she says with a nod.  
He nods back as he passes by to take her position at the center.

"Dr. Banner, Stark, I need you two to figure out how, exactly, Loki intends to open this portal. The rest of you, get some sleep. We won't be making any other moves until we learn more about what, exactly, we are dealing with. Once we find out, i'll call another meeting." Fury says. Then, "In the meantime, Romanoff-"

But Natasha, who has already surmised what Fury wants to ask her, is already prepared to refuse with a swift shake of her head.

"I'm a good bet. Not the best." she says. "We don't need infiltration right now, Fury. We need-"  
"-interrogation..." he sighs.

"Uh. Isn't that what spies do?" Stark cuts in with a frown.  
"Sometimes, yes. But we're basically dealing with a god here." Romanoff replies. "What if one shot at this isn't enough?"

And at those words, one after another, all six heads swivel in the same direction. Some, because they know what Romanoff means, and others, because they're simply mimicking everybody else.

Simza just blinks at the group in confusion.

"What. Why are you all looking at m-..."  
It hits her then.  
"Oh."

She breathes out a long sigh and under her breath, Banner hears her mutter a quiet, "...Damn..."

"Sterling," Fury says. "...I want a report sent to me by tomorrow morning."  
The words leave no room for argument, but his tone is telling of just how uncertain he is regarding whether or not she will actually follow his orders.

For a moment, Simza does, indeed, make to refuse. But then, she thinks back to the odd, taunting smile that Loki had given Banner not even an hour ago.

Secretive, irritating, condescending...  
But it had been more than just a thoughtless, villainous sneer.  
It had been meant specifically for the doctor.

And there's something in that.  
She can feel it.

"Yes, sir." she says.

* * *

_If there's anything that's just...BAD, then let me know and i'll try to fix this chapter up! I'm so sorry..._


	5. The Ways In Which She Gets Her Answers

Thank you for all the follows, everyone! I hope you enjoy and as I always say, if you ever find an issue with the plot, characterization, etc, just let me know!

Also, sorry this chapter is trash. But...I mean, i'm also trash...Most likely, this will be edited more when I wake up.  
More angst and a little heavier on the flashbacks than usual, but everything'll go back to normal soon!  
Here we go...Lawd, help me...

(Split into two chapters cause the text editor was being a rude ass dkfjljf.)

* * *

_SHIELD agents learn quickly._

_They have to.  
It's that or die, you see, and luckily, Simza is a fast learner._

_By the end of just one week, she is no longer a clumsy, hesitant rookie.  
She is on her way to climbing the ranks fast, getting things done with a quick, clean efficiency in the exact way that an interrogator should._

_But eventually, she learns that there's something rotten in her victories, too._

_Especially when more and more of her enemies, the ones she'd been ordered __**not**__ to make forget her, anyway, start to come after, not her, but those she cares about instead, in the hopes of retaliation; in the hopes of crippling her power._

_More often than not, it's her family who the villains want to pay the price._

_And SHIELD is smart, but their enemies are growing smarter too and somehow, they always find out exactly who and where Simza's family is._

_So far, every time, she's been fortunate.  
Countless nights of sleep deprivation and a constant eye on both her family's movements and the movements of a hundred different criminals all at once is what __**makes**__ her fortunate, and_ _so_ s_he's been able to use her resources, track the problems down, and eliminate them all, one-by-one, working carefully within the confines of SHIELD's orders._

_('Within the confines of SHIELD's orders' because it wouldn't do to go outright, full-on vigilante._  
_Simza knows she wouldn't be anything without the organization at her back, after all.)_

_Even so, there are some secrets that she still keeps._

_Because she knows what Fury would want her to do if he ever found those secrets out.  
SHIELD agents have no room in their lives for cheap sentiment. At the end of the day, the less tied down they are, the better, and like vultures, the higher ups have all just been waiting and praying for Simza to make a mistake that will justify them swooping down and attacking her with their 'polite suggestions' to cut what little ties she has left. _

_It had been hard enough for her to give up 24 years' worth of friends. _  
_But even then, she had known that that much, at least, had been necessary._

_This, though...it's...different.  
It's her family._  
_And even with their constant spats and dysfunctional dynamic, if __**they**__, her own mother and sister, forget her, then who does she have left?_  
_**What**__ does she have left?_

_Nothing._

_She'll be invisible._  
_Just like her father._  
_Only, in an entirely new way._

_For now, though, she is okay, and her family is fine, and knowing that is the only thing that keeps her sane.  
(Although, having a mild-mannered presence like Bruce Banner constantly around helps, too.)  
_  
_And so, Simza counts herself amongst the lucky few. The agents who gets to hold on to what the others can't: reminders of their humanity._

_But the problem with luck, of course, is that it doesn't ever last._

_And hers burns out much faster than she expects._

* * *

_On_ _**day 9**__, she accepts the job.  
(Unwillingly, yes, but circumstances have changed.)_

_And in the very early hours of __**Day 15**__, while the sky is still dark,_

_"He got away..."  
"...What?"  
"He got away, Agent Sterling. But...there's something else..."_

_He doesn't look at her then, just keeps his hands clasped behind his back as he stares down at the city lights through the window of his high, high office._  
_And that is how Simza suspects what he is about to say._

_"...Are you kidding me?..." she whispers. "Are you __**kidding**__ me? I gave you what you wanted to know!"_

_Fury's jaw tenses at the pain in her voice, but he continues._

_"That may be true, but you still broke protocol, agent. Exposed SHIELD to outsiders."  
_  
_"To my__** family**__, Fury. Because my mom and sister were the only ones who knew the information. Because you sent an incompetent agent to shadow the target and he lost the trail and they just happened to be nearby! If Agent Stan hadn't recognized them, if he hadn't contacted me and begged me to make them follow the mark, you wouldn't even have had the damned location!"  
_  
_"I realize that, agent." Fury says sharply. "The issue here isn't in your method. It's in your lack of discretion."  
A short pause. Then, more regretfully, "You shouldn't have told them, Sterling..."_

_"Yeah? Well, what was I supposed to do then, huh? He recognized them. My dead father's crazy, bastard, shite-for-brains associate __**recognized**__ them. He threatened to kill them if they ever said a word! They're just normal people, Fury." she pleads. "They were scared and my cover story wouldn't have held anyway, and now their lives are in danger because you let the criminal escape!" And suddenly, Simza begins to shake her head in disbelief, stricken by the betrayal. "...We had a deal..."_

_At this, Fury's head drops in exhaustion (and maybe just a little bit of guilt)._  
_Still, his tone remains steely, authoritative, strong._

_"...The mission failed, agent."  
_  
_"Yeah, well that isn't on __**me**__, is it! I told you that storming the base was pointless unless you knew how to counteract his powers, dammit! I told you! I didn't want to be involved in this to begin with, remember? I said no. A hundred times no. But you promised me that it wouldn't ever come to this!"_

_"I understand that," Fury answers, turning his good eye on her at last. He is infuriatingly calm in light of the situation. "but things are different now. I'm facing pressure on all sides here, Sterling. 'If she can get away clean and free, why can't we?' We'll have a riot on our hands, and more disorder is something that SHIELD sorely does not need."_

_"Then why even offer me the deal in the first place?" Simza returns. "...Fury, what's changed?..."_

_The man sighs._

_"SHIELD is growing. Fast. That means we have more people to answer to, and those people need to see some semblance of structure here, agent. Leniency is something we can no longer afford. Even one of you Powered steps a toe out of line, and suddenly, SHIELD becomes nothing more than an inhumane, terrorist group. How long do you think it'll take the world to try and shut us down?...There are no exceptions, Sterling. Not anymore."_

_The longer she holds on, the harder it will become for the both of them and Fury desperately hopes that she will just accept the truth before he is forced to use a sterner hand._  
_(Because despite what some may say, even he isn't completely immune to the pain of watching the very agents he'd helped train, suffer.)_  
_But..._

_"...Agent Stan. Agent Stan, he can do something about this, can't he?" Simza pleads in a small voice. _

_"...Possibly, yes..."  
Fury pauses to take a short breath before he delivers the blow.  
"But i'm betting you he won't. He's not claiming any responsibility for what happened, Sterling...He stands by his story that it was your own choice to involve your family."_

_The words stab into her like a sharp, hot knife and finally, everything Simza had once thought she'd known comes crashing down around her._

_Because after being initiated, she had shut the door on her old life and sealed it behind her forever. But she'd thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd found a new life here._  
_New friends._  
_New people to look up to._  
_New heroes to aspire to be like._

_...So when did those heroes start to look so much like villains?..._

_She thinks again about Banner._  
_About that prick of doubt he'd made her feel that first 3 am together._  
_And Simza suddenly realizes that she's spent so long trying to play at being a hero too, that somehow, she's lost her way and now she isn't even really a hero at all._

_She's just another weapon._ _Another number,_ a_nother tool for the job..._

_"One of our spies, Agent Romanoff, tried to rally for you," Fury says quietly. "but without Stan's testimony, it was a lost cause. A decision has already been reached." _

_At this point, it is obvious that both Fury and Sterling already know what that decision is._  
_Even so, he says it._

_"...Make them forget, Sterling. Make them forget you and we'll keep them safe. Or don't. And leave SHIELD and try to protect them all on your own. The choice is yours."_

_She lets out a weak, empty laugh, even despite the situation.  
"That isn't really a choice at all though, is it Fury?..."_

_"Maybe not, but it's the only one I can offer you. The rules on this are very clear. You're lucky your powers even give you an out. Others who fall under the same offense don't usually get this opportunity."_

_And so Simza takes a in a deep, shaky breath, bracing herself for the inevitable, but hating herself for not being able to fight against it any harder._

_"...You said you'll protect them?" she asks._  
_"That's the agreement, agent." he answers, but Simza just shakes her head._

_"No...Fury, you'll look after them?"_  
_Fury frowns, not quite understanding._  
_"I just said that's the agreemen-"_

_"I don't want a business contract, Fury!" Simza erupts._

_She lets out a slow breath to steady herself before she tries to speak again._  
_"...I want a promise. From __**you**__, not SHIELD...That they'll be safe. That they'll be looked after until this guy is caught. Do you promise?"_

_Fury's good eye is trained intently on her as he nods.  
"I promise." he says._

_The words don't reassure her very much. In fact, they ring strangely hollow even with Fury's obvious intention of staying true to them.  
But even still, she takes it. In the hopes that it is not yet too late to salvage her rapidly crumbling faith and believe that there is still__** something**__ here worth fighting for.  
Because what other choice does she have?..._

_"...Okay then..." Simza whispers._

_And with that, she turns and leaves the room._

_She walks out of the building.  
Gets into her car.  
Screams._

_And then, all the pent up frustration and stress and sadness spills over and her body is wracked with heavy, heavy sobs the likes of which she's never experienced in her life.  
Shoulders heaving, throat burning, outright wailing like a helpless child because that is exactly what she feels like.  
For thousands of different reasons._

_And now that she is losing her family, suddenly, she can remember every single wrong she's ever done them, no matter how small a wrong it had been._

_She remembers petty arguments over borrowing clothes and not-good-enough grades and undone chores and even who got to eat the last damned slice of pizza in a box or chicken nugget in a pack of 10. (It was always her. Because she was youngest...)  
_  
_She remembers name-calling and griping and fits of jealousy.  
Yelling.  
Shouting.  
Crying...  
(__**Them **__crying. Not her, of course. Because friendliness always came easy to her, but __**real**__ shows of affection? Not so much. And even though she'd said 'I'm sorry' after every fight, she never said 'I love you'...)_

_And then..._

_She remembers her last conversation with her mother. Trying so hard to cut it short so she could hurry to a __**bar**__ and meet a couple of friends that Simza would just end up losing a few days later, anyway..._

_And even after all of this.  
Even being the shitty sister and daughter that she'd been, when Simza had called and asked them for a favor, without question, they'd done it.  
_  
_And now they know what she really does for a living and they're in danger, but they're so proud of her too, and Simza doesn't know just how she's supposed to feel. _  
_Guilty? Heartbroken? Ashamed?_  
_All those things and more, she supposes._

_A good hour later, when her sobs finally come to a slow halt and she is capable of coherent words again, she picks up her phone.  
(The longer she waits, the harder it'll be...)_

_Her hands shake as she dials in the numbers._

_"Hello? Hi mom, it's me. Simza. Oh, um...Nothing...I was just thinking that I could stop by, maybe? I mean, it's not too late, is it?...Okay, great. Is...Is Shae there too, by any chance? Oh...Good...Well, i'll see you in a bit then. Yeah, okay...I...love you too..."_

* * *

Loki blinks his shockingly blue eyes around the empty cell, but it is lit far too dimly for him to see very much through the thick layer of glass, and the dull lights that line the inside of his empty prison are starting to make even **_his _**head ache.  
So he just shuts his eyes instead as he waits...

And waits...and waits...and waits...

Because he knows, oh, yes. He _**knows**_, that despite that one man's failure to coax any information out of him, the humans won't give up.

Suddenly, his eyes open.  
And a knowing grin crosses his features.  
He is right.

And the waiting is done, because he isn't alone. Not anymore.

Hardly moving, he tries to focus his hearing in order to feel out where in the room, exactly, she is.  
But he needn't have put in the effort, because all of a sudden, from somewhere behind him, there is a loud _clang!_ followed by "Ow! Christ! What the...!"

Loki smirks as he swivels around.  
"You know, if you're this spy i've heard so much about, i'm sorry to say you don't quite live up to-"

His smile fades when his eyes finally settle on her.  
Beucase it isn't the person he'd been expecting to see at all.  
Just some odd, plain human, not even dressed in a uniform.

Once the surprise wears off, however, he starts to chuckle as he watches the woman massage her wrist, which she'd banged against the edge of the handrails on her way in.

"Oh, now, this...this _**is**_ quite the problem, isn't it?" he laughs. "Has SHIELD truly grown so desperate that they'd send in a child to interrogate me?"

The woman sighs as she straightens before him, a good foot shorter at the very least.  
"You know, they told me you were a nice, nice guy. I'm so glad that they were right."

"Glad?" he scoffs. "Do you have any idea who I am? The power I possess?"

Simza shakes her head, all the while trying to piece together an interrogation tactic that will work against a veritably insane man whom she is better off not actually touching. That is, unless she wants to go through the trouble of calling in fifty soldiers to hold the man down while she uses her powers on him.  
"No. But I don't much care either, to be honest. I have a job to do and i'm gonna do it."

"Is that so?" Loki says. He takes a slow step forward, voice quiet and cutting in its precision at first. "And what arrogance makes you think that you could ever win against me? You're nothing but a pathetic, mewling quim, and you were made to be _**ruled**_!" he shouts.  
With the last word, his fist slams against the walls of the cell with a rattling _bang!_

Simza flinches in surprise.

"...Ruled by a much higher power than you will ever be able to understand..." Loki finishes.  
And for a moment, the man looks down at the floor with distraught eyes. His breathing is heavy and...angry, casting a white fog against the glass that grows then shrinks then grows again with each shaky breath of hot air.

Simza blinks.

So it's pride then, she realizes. His weakness is pride.  
In retrospect, it shouldn't be all that surprising, she supposes. He is, apparently, something very much like a god, after all.

Simza doesn't even hide her smile. In fact, she exaggerates it.  
"Yeah. I may be a 'quim', but, of the two of us, i'm not the one trapped in a cell here, buddy." she says. "That's you-"  
He opens his mouth to respond, but she talks over him.  
"-and you'll stay in there," she says, giving him a pointed look. "until you give me what I want."

After a short pause, the man begins to laugh with a shake of his head.  
"...Such confidence..."

"Well I do have a flawless track record to back that confidence up." Simza returns with a shrug.

_Take the bait, Loki. _  
_Come on. _  
_Make this easy..._

The man's upper lip curls in disgust.  
Then, that slowly turns into another full-on grin and his eyes start to glitter in a way that sends her skin crawling with uneasiness.

"Oh, but see, that's where you're wrong." the man says. "Because I happen to know of a few rather black marks on your ledger too,"  
He lays a pale white hand on the glass as he leers at her. "Agent Simza Sterling."

Simza's blood runs cold.  
"...How...do you know my name?"

Loki just chuckles because it is _**he**_ who is in power, now. As well he should be.

"Oh, I think that the rather more important question here is in what those black marks are, wouldn't you agree?" he says.

The woman before him clenches her hand into a fist and speaks through gritted teeth.  
"...What do you know, Loki?" she whispers.

He smirks.

"Your life is quite the tragic tale, is it not? One hopeful young woman, simply trying to grasp onto everything she holds dear, but in the process...Lying to a man who thought he'd found a _**home**_ in her." he sneers. "Letting him live with the guilt of having someone's blood on his hands, even knowing it could destroy everything he is, and what about her family? After what she did. To protect them. After she neglected them and neglected them again, in the end, she still fails them when they need her most." he says with a gleeful snicker. "...And after years and years of...disappointments, with nothing and no one else to lose, she leaves everything behind to try and finally be the hero that the doctor thought she was. Only, what good did that ever do her? Because here she is. Right back where she started. And for what?...No, no...For _**whom**_?"

Simza takes a shaky breath, too afraid to respond.

And that fear, it _**feeds** _him, and his expression suddenly turns very dark and cruel.

"...You think that by seeing him now, you can wipe your dirtied hands clean? They're already past redemption. And so are you! You will try to struggle against it but your world will keep falling apart exactly the way it has always done before and no amount of _**caring**_ will rewrite what's been done!"

"...I..." she stammers.  
But Loki isn't finished.  
He closes in on her.  
She falls a step back.

There's nowhere to run.

"This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer! You lie and kill, in the _**service**_ of liars and killers!" he hisses. "And it's time for you to accept that you really _**are**_ just as sick, just as weak, just as dark, as you ever were! And, oh, you've dragged the doctor down with you, Sterling. You can hide from it all you wish, but it's not one, but _**both**_ of you who are the monsters now."

"I-I never wanted him to think that he'd done it...It wasn't me...I...It's just one kill..." Simza whispers desperately.  
Her eyes flicker this way and that as she tries to stop herself from falling back into the memories. Falling back into the guilt. Falling back into an endless trap of self-loathing that had taken years and years to even _**begin**_ to climb out of.

But Loki just barks out a harsh laugh at that.

"Stand in the middle of all the ghosts that haunt him, and ask his conscience if the difference between one kill or a hundred matters! Both of you are bleeding red. So desperate to hide it. But once he learns the truth, it's only a matter of time before that red comes gushing out and you'll have no one to blame but yourself when he tries to kill you."

"...He...wouldn't do that..."

"Oh, wouldn't he?" Loki chuckles. "Because under the right circumstances, I rather think he will. And he'll enjoy it too. He'll enjoy seeing you, his life's one great regret, die by his own hand. Tell me. Do you truly believe you're prepared to re-live your past? Because, oh, whether you like it or not, I count on it happening, Agent Sterling. And soon."

A long silence rings out in the room then.  
And Loki relishes the torn look on Simza's face, relishes the pain, relishes seeing her heartbroken and lost and miserable and afraid, the way he had once felt.

But then, her wet, red eyes settle on him for what feels like an eternity.

And...  
...she...

_**Smiles.**_

Actually starts to _**smile**__._

"So that's your play. You're hoping that i'll make him turn, but even if I don't, you have a backup plan. What is it, an attack on the Helicarrier?"

It is like being struck by lightning out of nowhere.

"...What?..." Loki says dumbly.

Simza laughs because that look on his face is all she needs to know that she's hit the mark right on the nose.

"It was a good plan, i'll give you that. Agent Barton must have told you a lot about us."

Loki just frowns.  
"I..."

"Hm. Well, I can see you're in no mood to talk anymore, so i'll just get out of your hair. But thank you for that. And thank you for the advanced warning, Loki." she says with a polite nod.  
She smiles at him professionally, then she turns and scampers haplessly back up the stairs to leave him.

Once he is alone again, Loki collapses himself onto the corner of the cell and he stares blankly at nothing.

Then, he chuckles.

He can't exactly help it.  
Because yes, it's true that he absolutely detests the fact he's been outplayed. But oh, he can't help but love the sheer _**trickery**_ that the woman had used against him, too.

And not only that, but even though she'd found out what she'd wanted to know, Loki has the oddest feeling that somehow, when the time actually comes, the odds will still be in his favor.

* * *

"...end transcript...in conclusion...reason to believe..." Simza mumbles as she hunches over and types away furiously on her laptop. "...preparing for an attack. And...period." she says, hitting the last key with a gusto.

She falls back in her chair and lets out a tired sigh as she glances around her dark, cramped room to rest her bloodshot eyes.

It's been one hell of a long night.  
And in the sudden moment peace and silence, perhaps the first one she's been allowed all day, Simza can't help but think over what Loki had said to her.  
Because even though she'd kept up appearances while she was down there with him, his words...they've been nagging at the back of her mind and just won't leave her the hell alone.

Simza sighs as she shuts her eyes, just for a moment.

_'Past redemption'...  
_Loki is correct about this, of course._  
_Simza already knows she has done too much wrong, told too many lies, killed too many people to ever be absolved of her actions and she'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

_'Both of you are the monsters._'  
Loki is wrong about this, however.  
Because Sterling is certain, she is sure, that even with the cynical edge that's formed in his tone over the years they'd been apart, Banner is still a good man. That hasn't changed.  
And..._**is it**_ so hopeless, so naive, so stupid, for her to think that being here with him now can set things right? Not completely, of course, but even just a little?...  
She wonders about that.  
And she also wonders about whether or not keeping her identity a secret is still a good idea, too.  
(She wants desperately to tell him, but...she is also afraid of how betrayed he'd feel.)

With a small shake of her head, Simza pushes away the vexing thoughts.

Then, she stretches out her hands, maneuvers the computer mouse over to the send button, and clicks on it, before she shuts the machine and stows it away.

There. That's done.

Nothing else to do but sleep.

Simza immediately marches herself right over to the bed and lets out a contented half-sigh, half-squeal as she throws herself onto it and wriggles around underneath the smooth, silky sheets, fingers and toes curling in delight. Then, once she deems the bed sufficiently messy and comfortable enough, she curls up on her side, tucks one arm underneath her pillow, and shuts her eyes...

...

And she keeps them shut...

...

And she refuses to open them...

...

And she waits...

...

But sleep just won't come.

"Damn you, Simza." she grouses to herself as her eyes flutter back open.

And she continues to lie there, blinking in the dark for a few long minutes, but then, sensing the familiar beginnings of a suffocating swell of loneliness looming about in her chest, she sits up uneasily.  
Despite her exhaustion, she knows she isn't gonna get very much sleep tonight either, much to her annoyance.

She lets out a sigh.

_Might as well check on some old contacts then..._

But she can't do that _**here**_.  
It's too quiet. Too still. Too empty.

So where can she go?...

She thinks for a long while.  
Then,

_The lab._

It's a good a place as anywhere, she supposes.

* * *

_**Day 15.**_

_There is no rest for the wicked._

_As soon as Fury's sent in agents to take care of any remaining memories regarding SHIELD that Simza's abilities can't, he gives her another mission._

_To anyone else, that would seem harsh, maybe,_ _but she takes the job anyway because she knows Fury understands that work is her best outlet._

_So that is how she finds herself here, in her special place: an old trash heap of an abandoned building, actually an interrogation facility specifically designed to appear, much like Simza herself, as if it is nothing remarkable._

_There are numerous ways for her to get answers. Some methods, kinder than others._  
_But today, she can think of only one that will help her be rid of the hurt. _

_"You have one chance. Tell me who your client is."  
Her voice is steely and cold as she paces in lazy circles around him, dragging a metal pipe deliberately on the ground behind her. The sound of it, a constant reminder of the imminent threat, scraping against the cement ground is shrill and grating, and the man, whose wrists have been fastened tightly to the seat of his chair, shudders at the sound of it.  
His breathing is shallow, eyes wide open.  
To his credit, however, he musters the courage to give a frantic shake of his head.  
_  
_The scraping stops. _

_"Alright. Then don't."_

_And without any warning, she swings the rusted bar high in the air and brings it crashing down against the man's shin in a shattering blow._

_He cries out in pain. Face red, sweating, tears._

_Simza just tosses the pipe to the ground with a bored sigh._

_"Look, i'm not usually into physical interrogation." she says casually. "Everybody knows that, long-term, it's less effective, right? Over time, it makes the victim apathetic, withdrawn, distracted."  
As she speaks, she pulls a dagger from her pocket and turns it in her practiced hand and the man nods hopefully, desperately. He doesn't even realize he's walked into a trap._

_"The thing is, lately i'm starting to think it doesn't matter."  
And she stabs the dagger into his knee._

_His shouts make even __**her **__blood curl._

_Still, she has a job to do._  
_"Hey, hey. Eyes up front." she says, giving him a light, friendly slap near his jaw. "I know it hurts, but try to pay attention, huh? I'm baring my soul here."_

_He tries, whimpering and letting out short gasping breaths all the while._

_"It's just...i'm conflicted" she continues. "I have to get this info out of you, right? That's my job." Simza says. "...But the thing is, there'll always be another rat like you somewhere. There'll always be another source. So why do I bother holding back?..."_

_The man tries to speak, but Simza just takes hold of the dagger and wrenches it deeper in with a roll of her eyes. The man's voice suddenly jumps five volume levels and becomes a long, howl of pain instead and when she releases the knife again, he hunches forward and dissolves into a sweaty mess of incoherent moaning and sobbing._

_"Interrupting is very rude, you know." Simza says slowly. "But you're just dying to talk, aren't you, rat? So, fine. To hell with the niceties. Let's just skip to the end. That's the fun part anyway."_

_She pulls away and suddenly, she has a pistol in her hands. Before she aims it, she pauses to shrug.  
_  
_"Or, you know, you could always just tell me what I want."  
_  
_She makes a show of loading the gun, pointing it at, not his head, just his foot for now. (He doesn't know that last part though, of course.)_  
_But before she can squeeze the trigger,_

_"No, wait!...Please! I'm just...I'm just...I just deliver the cargo. I don't know anything! Please...I have a family..." the man cries.  
_  
_Simza blinks in surprise first. Usually, she gets at least one good shot in before they start groveling._

_Then she laughs cruelly._

_"You think I care if you have family? Everybody has a family."  
_  
_And she had just lost hers._

_"God, I was just about to give you the easy way out, too." she lies. "But you know, because you're such sentimental trash, I think i'll try something new."  
She pulls up a chair in front of him and straddles the back of it.  
"Here's what's gonna happen, rat. I'm going to put my hands around your throat and i'm gonna squeeze until you either suffocate or tell me what I want to know. You feel like cooperating? You wanna see your family again? Blink twice. But if you blink and I let you go and you don't give me shit, i'll kill you anyway."_

_"No...No...Please-"_  
_His words are cut off into a wet choke as her hands close around his neck._

_"It's not an easy way to die." she says into his ear quietly. "But you have a chance to change your mind, so think long and hard. Don't worry. I'll go slow."_

_Her hands tighten. And tighten._  
_And he gags and chokes and the pressure building in his head and lungs make him feel as if he will burst-...  
_  
_But he doesn't blink.  
_  
_He's a dead man anyway._

_But then, out of nowhere, from somewhere in the room, he hears a soft fshhh! that trails off and dies down..._

_And builds into a deafening BOOM! that shakes the entire ground below his feet and sends him flying.  
He gasps for air._

_There's a thick cloud of smoke and dust, and rubble raining from the ceiling, but he can...breathe again._

_He doesn't have much time to take that in though, of course._

_And the very last thing he remembers before he passes out is something hitting him on the head._  
_Hard._

* * *

_When he wakes hours later, someone is staring down at him in concern with a pair of pretty, innocent eyes.  
"Oh thank God. You're awake." the woman breathes when he stirs._  
_"What...What the hell happened?" he grunts. Then, more fearfully, "There...was someone here. Someone...Dammit. Where'd...Where'd they go?"  
"Hey. Shh, shh. Calm down, okay?" she says, laying a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Take it easy."_

_Remarkably enough, he finds himself obeying and for awhile, he just blinks at her in wonder as she smiles comfortingly._

_"...What happened? To...the person?" he asks.  
The young woman laughs._  
_"There." she says._

_He looks over and squints through the dark until he sees an arm poking out from a mountain of heavy debris._  
_"...She's dead." the woman continues, and as she speaks, she begins to work at the ties around his hands. Because even though the chair he'd been tied to is shattered into nothing but splinters now, surprisingly enough, the knots have held. "...Han sent me out to track you when you didn't show up for the cargo."_

_"Ah, dammit." he groans with a heavy sigh. "...How pissed is he?"_  
_"Very." she answers. "Come on. We should get going. You're supposed to make a drop, aren't you? I got it all in the trunk of my car. You just need to take it..." she trails off then and glances down at his injuries. "Erm...On second thought, I think we should probably just get back first so one of Han's doctors can take a look at you..."_

_"No! No...I'm fine." he pants. "We can't put this off."_  
_"But...you'll die! You'll pass out! From either the blood loss or the pain." the woman argues, laying a hand on his chest to stop him from rising._  
_(Surprisingly enough, the pain isn't actually so bad. But he doesn't tell her this.)_

_"No, I gotta get this shit to him by tomorrow night." the man says, struggling to his feet. "Or i'll die for sure."_

_The woman seems to think that over for a long moment as she watches him._

_"...Then i'll make the drop for you." she says softly._  
_"What?"_

_With more resolve,_  
_"I'll go for you. You call Han and get him to send a doctor over."_

_"I can't let you- ah, shit." he suddenly hisses, faltering just a little. The woman catches him just in time and his shirt is drenched in sweat as he puts his weight down on the leg that isn't dripping blood, and he feels the full brunt of his injuries only now. "...You know what to do?" he finally sighs._

_The woman shakes her head._

_"You gotta drive all the way down to Atlanta. Right now. Once you get there, find a bar called Speakeasy. Order a Black Russian. You gotta drink it down in one shot, got it, kid? And then make some dumbass comment about the tapestry hanging on the wall. The bartender'll give you an address with your tab and someone'll be there to meet you."_

_"Okay...Who?..." the woman asks. She looks suddenly afraid and the man knows he shouldn't say, but he softens because she looks young and this is obviously her very first rodeo._  
_"Probably Fisk. But if you're lucky, it'll be Alex. A bit of a shitheel, but not a bad kid. If it is Fisk, though, just don't say anything. And I_ _**mean**__ anything. You'll live, at least."_

_"Atlanta...Fisk...Alex..." the woman murmurs. She frowns to herself, obviously thinking something through very seriously and he gives her time to process the orders because it's a lot to take in._

_But then, she looks at him._  
_All traces of fear and uncertainty suddenly gone._

_She lays a hand on the side of his scruffy face._

_"Thank you." she says, genuinely._

_And before he can ask why, she lifts her other hand to her ear and says, "Fury, send agents to infiltrate Electi Corp."_

_"What...What are you doing? Hey, who the hell are you talking-?!-"  
_  
_Without even glancing in his direction, the woman pulls out a gun, holds it to his head, and, bang!  
Shoots him in cold blood.  
_

_Into the earpiece again,_  
_"...And send agents to clean up the mess here, too."_

_"Understood. Good work, agent."_

_Simza doesn't respond and as the feed from her transceiver cuts into complete silence, leaving her well and truly alone, she just stares down at the now-lifeless body, at the blood pooling around it, by the light of the moon streaming in through the high open windows._

_The dead stillness that fills the cold air around her, it feels...suffocating, now._  
_And this decrepit haunt of a warehouse, the place Simza had once thought was where she belonged, the place where she'd once felt as comfortable and at-home as anything, feels only strange and unfamiliar._

_This is far from the first time she's killed._  
_But it is the first time that killing has ever made her feel like such a..._

_Lost cause._

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!...I'm so sorry guys...


	6. The Way In Which He Gets His Answer

Urgh...Let me know if there are any concerns! Thank you for reading!

* * *

_It's a strange thing; to miss someone who is hardly ever gone.  
But that is exactly what Banner does.  
He misses her._

_Because she still smiles and talks and keeps him company, but she's been...strangely absent all this while too, getting through the past few days scatter-brained and only ever halfway present in the moment._

_On __**Day 15**__, while Ellie Mills is still out working, he can't help but wonder what he can do, despite his previous decision to try and not do anything at all._

_Because this...it makes him feel...helpless._  
_She looks so strangely __**gone**__ and lost inside herself and he wants so much to be able to remind her.  
Remind her that...she can talk to him, if she wants to._

_He doesn't have very long to ponder this, however._  
_Because as he lies there on the sofa, the door suddenly swings open and Ellie Mills trudges in, two plastic bags in hand. Whatever is in those bags clinks together as she carries them and the weight of it stretches the plastic so much that they sag very nearly to the floor._

_Without even seeing him, Ellie heads for the kitchen and lays everything out on the counter. And then, she fixes herself up a mystery concoction in a huge, polka-dotted jumbo mug which she brings to the table and begins chugging down.  
_  
_"...Hey there." Banner says, approaching her cautiously.  
_  
_She looks at him, surprised.  
Her hair is disheveled.  
(For Ellie Mills, that is normal.)  
Her eyes look pink and swollen.  
(For Ellie Mills, that is not.)_

_"Hey..." she mumbles tiredly. "...You want a drink?"_

_"Uh...Sure." Banner says, taking the seat across from her.  
_  
_She pushes the ceramic cup across the surface of the table and he takes a cautious sniff of the fizzing liquid before drinking the tiniest sip._

_"Urgk."  
Unwittingly, he lets out a few hacking coughs, and Simza__** almost**__ smiles at that, but doesn't._

_"What is this?" Banner asks with a wince._

_Ellie just shrugs. "Iunno. That."_  
_He looks over and there are tall bottles and short bottles and small bottles and large bottles of foreign liquor, cheap vodka, beer, wine, all lined up in a neat row._  
_"All of that?"  
"Some of it. Mix and match. You know."_

_She pulls her mug back towards herself and drains the entire thing with a grimace of her own. "You mind topping me off?"_

_He's concerned. He's __**more**__ than concerned.  
Not because she's drinking, but because she sounds so unbearably dead and listless.  
Still, he obliges because he feels like he has no choice, and he watches as Ellie pours a random sploosh of this and dash of that, in._  
_She drinks all of it down._  
_Then she pours herself some more and she drinks that down too.  
And the process repeats for a good long while._

_"Did something...happen, Ellie?"  
(A stupid question, Banner realizes, as soon as he's asked.)_  
_  
"...'Something'?" She starts to laugh, but the once bright sound that Banner has grown so accustomed to hearing just fades and dies on her lips until there is only silence and a more pained expression than he has ever seen, on Ellie's face. "Yeah...'Something'..." she says quietly. A long pause. "...You know, I found out at work that i'm a realll schitty person today, Starch. A real schitty one...And the things is, i'm good at it." she slurs. "Why?...Itsch...not what I want..."_

_"Hey...There are no heroes, Ellie." he says to try and comfort her. "You just gotta do the best you can with what you have, you know? In my book, that's exactly what you're doing. How many other people can say honestly that they would help a naked man lying face down on the street?"_

_He hopes for a laugh, but the sad, sad smile she gives him in return just makes him feel just that much worse._

_"...Buck, about zhat-..." she begins to say. But then, she just shakes her head with a sigh. "Yunno what? Yeah...Maybe you're right..."_

_Simza reaches for a small-ish bright green bottle then, and as she sloppily empties it into the mug, she starts to think about how much she doesn't deserve to have his goodness.  
But somehow, she's become hooked on it and she can't bear the thought of letting it go._

_Funny how in the beginning, it was__** she**__ who'd thought that __**he**__ needed __**her**__._

_And suddenly, the simple affection, the simple_ _**appreciation**__ for the person that he is overwhelms her._

_"You know what I shink?" Simza whispers, unsteadily. "I think...that if anyone in thish dumb, crummy world __**is**__ a hero, it's you..."_

_Banner blinks at her in shock.  
Then slowly shakes his head, a shy (and only sort of sad) smile starting on his face despite himself._

_"...I...That's not...You don't even really know me, Ellie." he says._

_She does though._  
_She does._  
_She can't tell him that though, of course, and so she just rests her head down on the table to cool it, and blinks her wide eyes up at him for a long time._

_"...I'm sho happy that you're here at leasht, Bluck...And...I really..." Her voice starts to crack and she pauses to smother her face into the table before she continues. "I really...don't want you to go away...I'm not nize enough sometimes. I know that, but I like having you round." she sniffles.  
A pause.  
Then, she peeks up at him again. "...You don't wanna go, do you?..." she whispers._

_Banner softens at just how afraid she seems._

_"No, Ellie. I don't." he says gently._

_She's drunk. She won't remember any of this in the morning.  
He can afford to be honest now. _

_And Ellie nods her head in relief, face rubbing against the wooden grain of the table and an embarrassed smile beginning to cross her features._  
_"Okay..." she mumbles. "...I...I lub you, Buck. You're suchh good frand. You needa know that."_

_Banner laughs kindly._

_"Alright, I think you've had enough to drink for one night." he says._

_But suddenly, Simza's head pops up and she is looking at him, begging tearfully.  
"No, no. I'm...being srious hur. Just...Lemme say it...I have to..." she says. "Please?..."_

_And this is something bigger than him._  
_He knows that now._

_And so, Banner nods._  
_"Alright..."_

_"I lub you, man." Simza says, clapping her hands around his face with an accidentally sharp slap. "Honesly. This right here."_

_And suddenly, she lowers one hand from his face to his chest, right over the warmth of his heart and if she weren't drunk, he's sure she could probably feel it starting to thump harder and faster with each second that he spends looking right into her pleading eyes and feeling her earnest touch._

_"Yeah...Uh...Sure, Ellie. And...I love you too." he stammers.  
(He's just playing along, he tells himself. Nothing more...)_

_He swallows nervously._

_"Come on. Time to get you to bed." he says._

_And finally, she nods in a very exaggerated fashion, eyes beginning to droop shut._  
_"Mm. You're right...Yeah. We shh go to sleep now. Come on, doggie."_  
_"Uh...What?"  
_

_And before Banner can do anything about it, she is dragging him by the hand into her bedroom. She flops down onto the mattress, pulling him with her and he has to swerve at the very last second to avoid falling right on top of her and crushing her flat._

_She runs a hand unabashedly across his chin. "Ha ha. You're kinda scratchy here..."  
She gives his cheek a few gentle pats. "G'night, Buck..."_

_And then she is asleep.  
Just like that._

_For a few moments after, Banner just lies still, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to figure out what's just happened._

_But then, he sneaks a careful peek at her sleeping face and her expression is troubled._

_Carefully, he brushes some hair out of her eyes.  
"Sweet dreams, Ellie." he murmurs.  
_  
_And then he tucks her underneath the covers before he slips out to get some rest himself.  
_  
_Because this is all he can do..._

* * *

He dreams about her that night.  
And when it becomes too much and Dr. Banner starts awake, it takes him a while to put himself back together because he hasn't dreamt of the incident, their last day together, in so long that he doesn't know why it's seeping in through the cracks in his subconscious now.

No, he suddenly thinks to himself.  
He does know.

It's because of her.  
Simza Sterling.

With a heavy sigh, he sits himself up and pinches at the bridge of his nose.  
Then, he glances at his watch.

3:02 am.

With a shake of his head, he pulls himself up, splashes his face with some water, and starts heading for the lab.  
He isn't gonna get much sleep tonight anyway, and he figures he might as well spend that lost sleep studying Loki's staff instead, trying to do something productive.

Anything except think about_** her**_ in the confines of his tiny room.

But when he pushes open the door, someone is already there, slumped over a laptop laid open on the desk before them.

Of course, it is the one person he'd been hoping to avoid.

With a small sigh, he ventures closer, peers into her face.  
Sleeping.

Then, he takes a quick glance at what she's been working on, out of simple curiosity.

At the moment, there is a file pulled up. A picture of a boyish-looking young man.  
"Daniel...Fischer..." Banner reads.

And there is a lot of information there, but he settles for skimming through just the more recent edits.

'Currently residing in Brooklyn. Attends school regularly. Searching for part-time employment. All threats to his safety terminated. Reminder: Check security status of his family, just in case. Also, send flowers (anonymously, of course). He always liked those.'  
Beside that, there is a small map of the city with a blinking red light to indicate Fischer's current location, as well as a list of other basic facts about him.

Height: 6'1  
Weight: 160 pounds  
Ethnicity: Caucasian  
Hair Color: Brown  
Eye Color: Blue  
Gender: M  
Immediate familial ties: older brother, father, mother  
Spouse: none (yet)*

Under the asterisk, there is a note that reads, 'Has a girlfriend now. Make sure she hasn't caught anyone's radar...Happy the bastard's moved on. The puppy eyes were getting a little hard to bear anyway. Forgetting was for the best.'

_Oh._

Suddenly, Banner feels as if he's snooped a little too much and so he looks away and turns his attention back to Simza instead- Simza Sterling, who he is now realizing, can, in fact, be..._**kind**_ underneath all of the prickly, anger she uses to try and hide it.  
She is snoring softly with her neck bent in a way that he knows she'll feel in the morning and so, reluctantly, he sticks out a cautious finger and prods at her shoulder.

She tips over to the side.

"Jesus fu-!" she gasps, nearly falling off the chair completely. Then, her eyes settle on his and, even with her heart still hammering away in fright, she smiles. "Oh!" she breathes. "It's just you! You scared me, doc."

Banner freezes, suddenly getting flashes of the day that changed everything between two strangers.  
A man and a woman.

He gets flashes of a nightmare, too.  
And so, he has to force himself to swallow down the urge to say something to Simza he'll very likely regret in the future.

"...What...did you just say?..."

Sterling frowns at him blankly.  
"What?"

"Oh...Uh. It's nothing. Nevermind."  
He turns away.

It's too much to be coincidence.  
Meeting at 3 am? The way she'd cursed? The way she'd smiled? Coffee?

...It's just...too much not to be suspicious.  
But he can't ask outright.  
He has to play this smart.

But how can he out-interrogate an interrogator?...

He thinks over that for awhile until he arrives at the answer.

_By playing to her weakness.  
_  
That mysterious desire to be close to him.

"What are you doing here, Agent Sterling?" Banner asks.  
He powers up a screen, but leaves the lights in the lab relatively dim so they don't hurt her sleepy eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing." she answers.

"...I just...was having trouble sleeping, I don't know. Thought i'd take a look at this thing while I had some time." Banner says, gesturing to the curved, golden staff (Loki's, of course) laid out on the table. "And you?"  
Simza shrugs, stifling a tired yawn.  
"I was...doing some work." she says.

"Oh. Yeah. I, uh...saw..." Banner admits. "Sorry."

Simza gives him a wry smile.  
"It's fine. Daniel's hair and eye color aren't exactly huge secrets anyway."

"Daniel, huh? So...who was he? One of the associates you told me about?" Banner asks.

Simza nods.  
"He was actually my partner just before I re-joined SHIELD. Good kid. Fast, a wicked shot, and good with his hands. A little bit too...eager though. About everything. Tried to jump the gun on more things than I could count." she says fondly. "It got him into a lot of trouble. Usually just from me though, thankfully."

"Seems like you...cared about him." Banner says.  
He purposely leaves the statement open-ended enough that she can interpret it in any way she wishes.

Simza blinks down at the floor.

"...No, not really...Between the two of us, **_he_** was the one always spouting off love poems or some crap in the middle of a job." she says with a laugh, but it sounds just a little hollow. "...He was a Lit. major in his fourth year of university. Sappiest guy I ever knew. At least that romantic sensibility's done him some good though."  
She smiles.

"What do you mean?"

"Look. This is his girlfriend." she says. She turns her laptop screen towards him and says, voice tinged with pride, "Isn't she pretty? They make a good pair."

On screen, there is now a picture of a smiling girl, no older than the age of 23 and, in fact, Banner knows of a lot of people who would _**not**_ think the girl very pretty at all. But he's kind of glad that Simza does.

"Uh...Yeah." Banner says.

She continues to look fondly at the screen for awhile, then, she sighs and shuts the top of her computer.

"So, now that you're here and all, mind if I ask you something? I mean, you do still owe me a question, right?"

Here it comes, Banner thinks to himself glumly.  
The never-ending stream of, 'How do you turn? What does it feel like? Have you ever killed someone before?'

At that last thought, a dead pang settles in the depths of his chest.  
Still, a deal is a deal.  
"What, uh, do you want to know?" he says.

"Why are all of your shirts purple?"

"...I'm...sorry?"

"Your shirts. Why are they all purple?"

He glances down at his t-shirt and he finds that it is, in fact, a deep violet shade, just like the button down he'd worn the day before.

"I mean, is it some kind of secret code? Like, if you're wearing purple then you want people to leave you the hell alone. And if you wear black, then you hate them. And if you're wearing white then, what, you're in love with them?"

"...No, I uh..." Banner mumbles, at a loss for how to respond. "It's just...a shirt..." he says.

"Oh." She shrugs. "Alright then."

"...You really just wasted your question on that..." Banner says in disbelief. "Why do you care what color my clothes are anyway?"

"I don't know. Just _**dye**_-ing to know, I guess."  
She snorts with laughter.  
"Geddit?"

Banner blanches again.

And he's tried and he's tried, but he can't hold the feelings down. Not anymore.

"No..." he murmurs shaking his head.

"You know, 'dye' as in-" Simza begins to explain, obliviously.

But Banner stops her short.  
"No...Stop. Just stop it, alright? Stop trying to help me, stop trying to be around me. Look, i've tried to humor Fury by playing along with whatever this is, but the fact is, i've gone a year without incident and I didn't need anybody's help to do it."

Immediately, Simza sobers.  
"...I...wasn't..." she stammers.

"No one on this ship is here to make friends. Everybody other than you knows that, so what are you playing at, huh? Are you really that lonely? Or just naive?" Banner asks. "Because whichever it is, _**I**_ can't help you!...And you can't help me."

And then he waits for her to shout and yell defensively back.  
Part of him hopes that she will because at least that would ease his conscience. At least that would make it clear that this whole thing had been just another temporary nightmare and Simza Sterling wouldn't be real and there wouldn't exist someone else who is too much like Ellie Mills out in the world.

But...no...

The woman before him clutches her laptop tightly to her chest and her brows crinkle as she tries to keep a steady countenance.  
She doesn't meet his eyes.

"...I'm sorry..." she whispers.

And then, she turns and hightails it out of there.

In the heavy silence that hangs in the air after her departure, Banner sighs, rubbing a hand over his face wearily.

Everything's a mess.  
Everything...

And he knows that part of this is his fault for not being able to keep his past from flooding into his life, but thanks to Sterling's strange parting words, he's starting to believe that part of this...could be SHIELD's fault too.

Which means he needs to talk to Fury.  
Now.

* * *

Simza sighs as she sits on a bench in the corner of the armory, absently dismantling a gun so that she can polish the parts with a clean rag.

A few other agents on night duty mill about in groups here and there doing the exact same thing, and Sterling tries to ignore the cheerful conversation in the background as she works. Agent Maria Hill, looking just as stern, clean, and proper as she would at any more reasonable hour of the day, wanders around, overseeing the lot of them.

"Thanks again for your help, Sterling." the woman says, now standing over her. "The newer recruits are still slower than we'd like them to be, but so help me, they'll learn."

"Oh, it's...not a problem." Simza answers with a shrug. "I was up anyway."

"Sure, but you could have spent your early morning doing anything but listen to Lee and Carter gossip about Steve Rogers over there." Hill sighs, nodding towards a group of young men.

Simza just laughs.  
"Captain America still making waves around here, I see."

"You do a fair share of that yourself." Hill answers.

"Me? Why, whatever do you mean?" Simza says, ever-so-innocently.

Hill crosses her arms and gives her a look.  
"You know what i'm talking about, Sterling. Ever since you came back, people have been playing you up like the story of the prodigal son around here."

"Oh? Let me guess. Did I...come groveling back?"  
"Yeup."  
"On the edge of complete ruin?"  
"Yeah."  
"And Fury graciously accepted me back into the fold?"  
"Pretty much."

"Ugh." Simza shudders. "You'd think agents would be smart enough not to buy into that kind of crap."

"Oh, they are. They're just bitter, you know." Hill says with a shrug. "A year later and they're still scrambling to find an agent good enough to fill your shoes."  
She flashes Simza a sidelong smile and Simza blinks back in surprise.

Because she'd never thought it possible that SHIELD...would actually..._**miss**_ her...

Suddenly, Hill shifts her weight from one foot to the other and it's back to business.  
"Once you're finished with that, you're good to go, agent." she says.  
"Alright, thanks." Simza replies. And for awhile, she continues to clean.

But then, mind wandering back to what Banner had said, she starts to wonder...

She doesn't actually ask, though. Not until the very last possible moment, anyway.

"Um...Hill?" she says, turning the now re-assembled gun in her hands nervously.  
"Yeah?"  
"...Would you consider us to be...I mean, well, would you say...that...we're...friends?" Simza asks.

Hill frowns.  
"Come again?"

Simza's cheeks flush red.  
"...Nothingsorrynevermind. Here. Uh. I'mdone."

And with that, she passes the weapon over (safety lock on, of course) and flees the room, chastising herself the entire time for getting caught up in the moment.

She's a grown ass, 30 year-old woman, for crying out loud. And she's going around asking people if they're..._**friends**_? Like some sad toddler on her first real day of school?

_**Ridiculous.****  
**_Completely and utterly ludicrous.

For a moment, Simza starts to wonder if maybe years of isolation, save for contact with a few colleagues, has finally started to take a toll on her sanity.  
But doing that only makes her feel so much more pathetic than she already does and so she just sighs as she trudges down the hallway, shoes clunking against the raised metal floor, eyes turned hopelessly to the ground, and trying to think of anything else.

She is paying no attention at all when a dark, shadowy silhouette leaning casually against the wall, appears in her line of view.

When she finally sees it, Simza lets out a short shriek.

But the figure jumps, too, and then, it steps out of the blackness and...

"...You alright there, Sterling?" Romanoff asks with a quirked brow.

"Oh." Simza breathes. She gives an anxious titter. "Uh...Yeup. Everything's good. Just peachy."

The spy doesn't buy it, but she knows better than to ask.

"What are you doing just hiding around in the dark like that, anyway?" Simza snaps, once her heart rate has slowed to a normal pace.

Romanoff tries not to laugh.  
"Waiting. I have something for you, Sterling." she replies. And then she produces a neatly folded bundle of cloth from underneath her arm where she'd tucked it.

Simza peers at the material suspiciously, but doesn't take it.

"It's a protective suit. Like mine." Romanoff explains.

"Oh..." comes the answer. "Well, thanks, but...i'm not here to fight, remember?"

"I know. It's just a precaution. If something were to happen, i'd hate to say we'd lost one of our best all over again." Romanoff says with her trademark smirk. And then, she turns to disappear down the hallway, with her usual, eerily silent footsteps.  
But at the corner, she abruptly stops, glances back, and adds, more gently, "Besides...good friends are hard to come by, aren't they, Simza?...So take care of yourself for me."

She leaves. For real this time.

And as soon as she does, Simza crumples to the ground, burying her face in her arms in horrible embarrassment.

_She heard.  
Oh, God.  
No, no, no..._

She doesn't know how she'll ever live this one down...

But suddenly, some mysterious _**something**_ compels her to take another good hard look at the suit in her hands.

And so she does.  
And as Simza runs her finger across the familiar sleek lines and the stitched SHIELD emblem on the sleeve, and as she thinks about Romanoff's parting words, she almost begins to smile.

Just almost.

Because she'd given up all hope of having a reason to fight, but now, oddly enough, she's...finding them again.  
Only this time, they're real.

And they're in so much more than just stuffed up_** ideas**_ of heroes.

They're in...friends.  
Well, _**a**_ friend, actually, but it's a start and that is good enough for her.

"Thanks...Tasha." Simza whispers, even though she knows the spy can't hear.

* * *

_**Day 16.**_

_"Urgh...My head..." Simza groans._  
_As she mumbles, she can still taste the stale, bitter tang of yesterday's alcohol on her tongue and she grimaces in disgust as she blinks her swollen eyes open._  
_Everything is bleary and she feels sluggish and slow and...confused._

_Still, she begins to push aside her blankets and head out in search of some much-needed water._

_"Hey, you're finally up." a soft voice says, effectively stopping her in her tracks._  
_It's an especially pleasant one, given her condition right now._

_Simza squints her eyes in search of the source._  
_"Buck..." she says when she sees him poking his head carefully into the door. "...What the hell happened last night?"_

_He just gives her a smile and steps inside._  
_"Here. I, uh, thought you might need some." he says, twisting open a water bottle._  
_"Thanks..." Simza croaks gratefully._

_And then, he sits on the edge of the bed as she takes careful sips, and then large, desperate gulps, until the bottle is completely empty._  
_As she lowers it again, her stupor begins, at last, to fade away and...__**some**__ of it comes back to her._

_Frozen in place, she suddenly sneaks a quick glance at him._  
_"...Oh no..." she mumbles into the mouth of the bottle. And her cheeks begin to flush. "Uh...Buck?" she says._  
_  
"Yeah?" he answers._  
_  
"...Um...Tell me i'm wrong, but...I seem to have this completely...crazy memory of me telling you that...I...lo-...love you?...That's...just...me being delusional, right? That didn't actually happen..."_

_Banner clears his throat._  
_"Oh, uh..."_

_"...Oh my god."_  
_Simza pulls her blankets up over her face. "Oh my god." she says again._

_Banner just laughs._

_"Ellie, hey, it's not a big deal." he says. "We all do things we're not proud of when we're drunk."_

_She snorts._  
_"Yeah? And what's the worst thing__** you've**__ done? 'Kind' someone to death with your damned good manners?"_

_Banner chuckles._  
_(How about break a building? Wreak havoc on a city? Decimate a town?)_

_"You'd be surprised." he says instead._

_"Hmph." comes the answer._

_Banner lets out another chuckle at that._  
_"Alright, well...I'll let you get some rest then. I'll be heading out in a bit so if you need anything..." he says, rising to his feet._

_That draws her back out almost immediately._

_"Wait, what? Wait, where are you going?" she asks.  
There is just a hint of panic in her voice as she sits up and sends the blankets billowing out, and so, Banner stops in his tracks, afraid she'll hurt herself._

_"Oh, uh...I'm...looking for a job." he confesses, just a little sheepishly._  
_He knows he should have done this sooner._  
_He's been living off of her money for far too long._

_Ellie Mills just blinks at him wide-eyed._  
_"...__Oh..." she murmurs. "Um..."  
__A pause.  
__Then,  
__"...Can I come with you?"_

_A smile breaks across his face._

_"Yeah, sure. Why not?"_

_As the rest of the morning passes, as they get dressed and have breakfast and brush their teeth, talking and laughing all the while (even through mouthfuls of peppermint-flavored toothpaste) neither of them make any mention of how him finding a job should, by all rational means, signal the end of their time together._  
_It's an unspoken understanding, even when she's sober, that they want to stay exactly as they are._

_But both of them, they know that they are also trapped in a strange no-man's land somewhere between friends and acquaintances and lovers._

_It's...a strange set of boundaries to have to understand.  
To try to cross._

_Do they even want to?_  
_Neither of them is sure._

_"Hey, Ellie. You got a raisin?" Banner asks, completely out of the blue as they're about to leave the apartment._

_"What? Uh...No?..."_

_"Oh. Well then, uh...how about a date?"_

_And Simza blinks in surprise as Banner turns to her, looking professional and rather dashing in a white button down, and holds out his hand. __Then, she snorts with laughter and his eyes crinkle in merriment too._

_"Okay. That was actually a pretty good one." Simza says. Then, more slyly, "'A date', huh?"_  
_"Well, we have already said our 'I lub you's, so I figured why not." Banner says jokingly._  
_Simza groans at the reminder._

_"...You're kind of a jerk, you know that?" she says._

_But she takes his hand anyway._

_And Banner smiles._

* * *

"What the hell is this? Some kind of test? Tell me Fury, did I pass? 'Cause i've been up all hours trying to figure that out for awhile now."

Still only half-awake, the one-eyed man turns just in time to see none other than Dr. Banner storming into the observation room where Fury had been, up until now, peacefully drawing up a list of to-do's for the day.

At the sight of the fuming doctor, the two other agents in the room exchange fearful glances between themselves, and Fury quickly sends them out with a subtle flick of his eye.

"Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Banner?" he asks, stepping down from the raised platform as they scurry away.

"Why is she here, Fury?" Banner questions. "And don't give me that bullshit about keeping me calm because we both know that's a lie."

"'Calm'?..." Fury echoes. Then, he lets out a sigh. "...So Sterling told you about her powers, did she? Of course she would..."

Banner doesn't grace that with a response.  
"You know about Ellie Mills, don't you?" he demands instead.

"...Yes, doctor...we do."

And that finally makes Banner pause, because he hadn't been expecting such a plain confession. Very quickly, however, he composes himself once again.

"How does that have anything to do with the tesseract? And what is SHIELD trying to prove by forcing reminders of her everywhere I go anyway, huh, Fury?"

The director takes in a slow breath, trying to figure out the best course of action here.  
It's a risk to tell him. It's a risk to _**not **_tell him.

But as he looks at the doctor and he thinks about Sterling, he realizes that, really, there is only one way to go about this.  
He just hopes that the both of them will forgive him eventually.

Fury sighs.

"You said you knew a girl named Ellie Mills."  
"Yeah..."  
"Well the people who broke into her apartment the day you thought she died, they were fellow SHIELD agents-"  
"'Fellow' SHIELD agen' -" Banner begins to question, but one look at Fury's dead expression and he settles back into silence.  
"...Undercover. Testing the stability of your alter ego so we could be sure it was safe before we tried to approach you again."

"What?..." Banner just-barely manages to reply.  
Because it's so much to take in.

Right now, he isn't even sure_** which**_ part of those few sentences he is supposed to focus on. He isn't even sure where to start.  
But then,  
"Wait a minute, the day I 'thought she died'?"

"Yes, Dr. Banner. 'Thought'. Ellie Mills survived that day, and before she decided to go rogue on us, she remained with SHIELD for a very long time even after that incident."

_Oh, no,_ Bruce thinks to himself. Because he is starting to think he knows where this is going.  
(But...But that's impossible. It can't be right. He's sure of it...He's sure...)

"Of course, here, she goes by a slightly different name."

_No...  
_  
"Her real one."

_No, no, no..._

"And that is,"

...

"Simza Sterling."

He can't think.  
He can't breathe.  
He can't **_anything_**.

The thoughts, the feelings, the years and years worth of hiding and forgetting and just trying to cope, they're rushing him all at once, overwhelming him, and suddenly the room is spinning, his lungs and ribs aching from the strain of trying to contain, trying to even understand, this truth.

She's...alive.

She's...a SHIELD agent, who'd been tricking him the entire time, yes...

But she's _**alive**_.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!


	7. The Things That Hold Them Back

_Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading! I really do appreciate all the follows and i'm so sorry for the long hiatus. But my exams are over now so hopefully, i'll be able to push out updates more often!_  
_Also, i'm so sorry for this chapter...Honestly, sorry. If there's something absolutely just BAD about it, let me know and I will absolutely fix it! I don't know...AKDNFAALSDFN..._

_Hope you enjoy!..._

* * *

Banner stumbles out of the observation room and through the empty galleys still in a half-daze. Still trying to process the conversation that's just happened.  
Because everything that's ever mattered, everything that's haunted him, everything he'd once thought had had a hand in making him the _**him**_ he is today, had been...wrong.

And now there are nearly six years' worth of trapped feelings- of guilt and regret and longing and confusion, all tearing at his ragged insides at once and trying so desperately to claw their way, inch-by-wretched-inch, through the suffocating darkness and back into daylight where those feelings can, at long last, be felt.

It's a considerable task to keep them in check.

And after he'd heard that name, 'Simza Sterling', everything had been a blur of passing sights and sounds and colors.  
But now that he has some space, some quiet, he can recount the conversation in three definite steps.

Step One.  
Denial (of course).

_"...No...No, no, no. You're wrong. She...can't be Ellie Mills. Her face is entirely different. And what about those scars? Ellie never had those..."_

_Anything.  
He'll grasp at anything: any little excuse, any possible reason not to believe it.  
(Because he **misses** Ellie, because he **wants** Ellie, true. But he doesn't deserve her...)_

_But in the hard lines of Fury's face, there is only a look of pity that hones in exactly around Banner's shame and pries it out from where it's been, up until now, safely hidden away.  
_  
_"...She got those because of you, doctor." the director says. "After you ran out on us, we had to rush her to a facility and perform an emergency operation. Used up a lot of our very best resources and even then, we came this close to losing her for good."  
_

Step two.  
Defensiveness.

_"She was smarter than that, Fury. The Ellie Mills I knew wouldn't have let you stage a- what, a test?- that dangerous to begin with."  
__"And I suppose you think that **you're** some kind of authority on what exactly 'Ellie Mills' would or would not have done, do you?" comes the pointed response.  
__"When it comes to things like this, i'd say I could make a few pretty good guesses, yeah."__  
__"You seem very certain of that, doctor. For a man who, in the past six years, never even once picked up on the fact that she was an agent all along, anyway."_

_And at that, Bruce Banner finally falls into a subdued silence that is just bordering on ashamed, brooding territory and so, Nick Fury decides it'd be best to just let that matter drop for now._

_"To address your original concern, doctor: yes, she was. Smarter than that, I mean. But back then, the people pulling all the strings, the ones at the very top..." Fury trails off into a sigh before he says, more definitely, "the council, had no way of knowing that yet. Sterling was barely a month into her job, and we were ordered to act without telling her."_

_Banner can't stop the protective edge when it comes rearing its way into his tone._

_"...You mean she had no idea?"_

_The director's brow creases, just slightly, but he nods._  
_  
And Banner can do nothing but utter a dumbfounded sound that is a cross somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.  
__"Is that some kind of a joke?..."_

_It starts out as a sort of quiet, controlled anger. Then, it quickly grows louder and larger and ever more and more unsteady and Fury's hand silently closes around an emergency call button in the folds of his clothing, just in case, as Banner rails on, "Is that the kind of game you SHIELD types play around here? 'Get what you need, no matter what the cost'? Because innocent people **die **for that. Your agents throw their lives out there at whatever threat you tell them to just to do some good and you let them walk blind right into hell. Do their deaths even mean anything to you? Ellie-..."_

_Banner breaks off suddenly as that last bloody memory of her flashes once again through his mind._  
_His chest constricts, his blood starts to pulse in his ears._  
_He clamps his hands around the metal railing with a vice-like grip as the grief starts rising in his throat, pushing him deeper and deeper into the danger zone._

_Into the** green** zone._

_Banner takes a deep breath, then another as he forces the feelings back down._

_His face is crumpled in pain, his voice soft, when he is finally able to continue._  
_"...She nearly lost her **life**. And you let that all hang in the balance just to, what, be sure that I really was a giant, green, rampaging monster? You really needed your proof that badly?..."_

_Even through all of this, Fury remains calm._  
_Because with his years and years of experience as director of SHIELD, he has gotten used to being the last-ditch target of a thousand different people's blame. It isn't such an easy thing to be, maybe, but it's a burden he knows that only he himself can bear.  
And with Simza and Banner, he knows it's deserved._

_But now it's time to set things right again._

_"I understand how difficult this might be for you to believe, doctor," he replies. "but that day, we had no intention of letting either of you get hurt."_

_"...Then why did you?"_

_"You already know the answer to that." Fury says plainly._  
_His shoulders rise, then drop in time with a short, heavy sigh, and then he looks out over the dim, empty control room. For a long moment, there is only silence save for the humming of the engines and the groaning and creaking of metal as the Helicarrier continues passing swiftly through the still-dark sky. But then, Fury speaks again, and this time, his voice is suddenly weary and quiet._  
_"...Whether or not Sterling got injured was never in my power, doctor. She threw all caution, all protocol to the wind trying to protect you. From yourself, from finding out the truth, from being uprooted all over again...You meant that much to her."_

_And what on earth could Bruce possibly say to that?_

Step Three.  
Grudging acceptance.

_It is a long while later now, and as the beginnings of a beautiful sunrise start to bleed the very edges of the sky different hues of violet and pink, Banner is still there asking questions, even as Fury has set back to work.  
_

_"She woke up and the first thing she did, even covered in bandages barely able to utter a coherent word, was ask what happened to you, doctor. After I told her, she nearly quit SHIELD right then and there. She had good reason to. Plenty, in fact, what with her family not remembering her, and then losing you..."  
_  
_"Her family?...You made them forget-...?" Banner whispers in horror._

_He can hardly believe it at first._

_But suddenly, times spent with her all come rushing back and he can pinpoint the exact day, the exact night, that she'd probably been made to do it._

_(The night she'd gotten drunk...)_

_And it only **really** hits him then- how insignificant, how pathetic, how useless a presence he had been in the face of so much heartbreak. Heartbreak that he had never even picked up on, even as he was sitting right there across the table from her watching the consequences of it._

_"...If you made her do all that, why would she stay?...She told me she only left SHIELD a year ago."_

_Fury lets out a tired sigh as he continues scrolling through a hologram screen of info pertaining to some weapons blueprint.  
"After what happened to Sterling, the higher ups were making a push to hunt you down and...detain you, doctor. But after they heard Simza threaten to leave us, they made her a deal. She was shaping up to be one of our best and brightest, after all."_  
_"What kind of deal?"_  
_"She'd stay. But only if they agreed never to run interference in your life again. She would be the sole agent to keep track of you, and only when it was absolutely necessary."_  
_"...You mean even after everything that SHIELD did to her...she still stayed for another half-decade because of me?..."  
Fury nods, then waves his hand across the air to pull up some new file, and Banner just shakes his head in sadness. _

_At this point, it doesn't even really surprise him._

_Even after she'd 'died', even after she'd lost everything, she'd been trying.  
__Trying to give the likes of **him **a normal life, and the first thing **he'd **done upon seeing** her** again in India was...scare her. (And now he knows why she'd seemed so scared, too). Scare her and then avoid her and then hurt her...  
He would laugh at the irony if it weren't also so terrible._

_"Can I ask one last question, Fury?"  
The director nods._

_"She stayed through all of that. So...why'd she leave SHIELD in the end? What finally set her off?..."_

_Fury gives a wry smile at that, as if he knew the question was coming.  
Then, he gives a sharp flick of his hand and all the musical beeping and blipping of the screens before him blink into thin air, leaving only silence behind._

_"...I broke my promise. I knew there was a risk, but my responsibility came first. I turned my eye for a second and...I got her older sister, Shae, killed...Agent Sterling rushed home, tried to save her, but all her mother saw was a complete stranger kneeling over what she thought was her only daughter's corpse. What would that look like to you, doctor?"_

_"...A murder..." Banner whispers hoarsely. "...She thinks that Simza did it?..."_  
_  
"Yes. We got the real criminal in the end, of course, but it still took us weeks to clean up that mess. Had to make deals with nearly every police department in the area, every detective, every government agency, that Simza's mother could go to, in order to stop her from unknowingly making her own daughter a convict. It was one hell of an awkward situation, as i'm sure you can imagine. And the worst of it is, her mother is still out there, trying."_

_"Wait, but- I don't understand. Couldn't Simza just make her mother forget her again?"_

_"She could." Fury says. "But tell me something, doctor. Say you lived in complete isolation as nothing but a ghost with a face and a name that no one could remember. That you couldn't **allow** anyone to remember- and then suddenly, you had a chance. Wouldn't you rather someone in this world know you? Know that you exist? Know that you're real? To ground you, tie you to the world, and remind you that your life weighs something against all others, too?"_

Banner knows the answer to that now.

And it's: yes.  
He would.  
He **did**.

And the one who'd remembered, the one who'd pulled him from the loneliness, the one who'd helped him, had been her.  
Ellie Mills...

No.  
Not Ellie.  
Never Ellie...  
Simza.

Banner lets out a sigh and he wonders how he'll ever merge those two different identities into one.  
Because, of the two, he'd thought that Ellie Mills had been the familiar thing and that Simza Sterling had just been the new, unwanted thing. But in reality, it's the other way around.

The new is the old. The old is a lie.  
The lie was a fake.

...A _**fake**_...

...Had it been though?...

Having finally reached his destination, Banner absently pushes the door of the lab open as he ponders the question.  
And he continues to ponder it as he switches on the lights, powers up a few machines, and checks the energy readings of the device connected to Loki's staff.

But then, minutes later, as he is just beginning to give up and jot down a few notes instead, the answer finally comes to him as clear as day.

No.  
The name may be different and the start may have been false, but...

_'...You don't wanna go, do you?...'_

Agent or not,_** she **_had been real.

And at that realization, Banner's concentrated writing stops, and his dark eyes can't help but rest on the empty chair where Simza Sterling had been sitting just a few long hours before.

* * *

She doesn't come back.

Between work with Stark, he seeks her out.  
He doesn't wander too far or too often (the agents are still anxious about having him onboard, after all), but whenever he has the chance, he tries.

Well, tries and fails, more like.

And it's a hopelessly frustrating and confusing thing and, to be completely honest, Banner isn't quite sure of what he'd say even if he _**did**_ happen to run into her, really.  
He just knows that he needs to run into her anyway.  
(He just knows that he needs to be sure that this hasn't all just been some delirious dream...)

That is why, when Fury finally calls another meeting, Banner is eager to go.  
She's part of the team so of course she'd be there, he thinks.  
But...

He walks into the conference room, scans the area, and nothing.

"You're kind of a jumpy fella, aren't ya?" Stark says, eyeing the doctor as he shifts around for the umpteenth time.  
"What? Uh...No...No, not really." Banner replies distractedly.

Stark doesn't believe that, but he just shrugs and turns his attention back to poking fun at Steve Rogers, who is trying to ignore the friendly, if somewhat childish jabs in favor of asking Thor a more serious bunch of questions. Probably regarding his newfound knowledge of the existence of aliens.

Nobody notices when, from across the room, Natasha Romanoff smirks and begins to saunter over.  
"If you're looking for Sterling, doc, Thor found her taking a nap in the nook that overlooks the jet hangar." she murmurs in a low voice, so no one else can hear.  
"...The jet hangar? Why is she sleeping there?" Banner asks with a puzzled frown.

The spy merely gives a shrug as she crosses her arms over her chest to assume her trademark stance.  
"Don't know. Thor nearly tripped all over her though, apparently. Didn't even stir."  
"I...guess she didn't get much sleep last night...She was still working when I saw her this morning..." Banner mumbles.

And at the care in his tone, Romanoff's green eyes flicker over him for just second before she glances away again, lips curving upward into an easy smile. "I wouldn't worry too much, doc. Whatever happened between the two of you, she'll be back to normal by tomorrow."

"Sorry? Oh..." Banner laughs uneasily. "And what makes you think that...uh, something happened?"  
She shoots him a look.  
"I'm a good spy. I know how to read people." comes the answer.  
And just as Banner makes to say something else, Fury tugs the door open and stalks in.

The group immediately stands at attention, Banner a little later than everybody else.

"Gentlemen, Romanoff- unfortunately, I have some very bad news for you all today." the director says in greeting. "I've looked over the reports of Agent Sterling's interrogation, and we have reason to believe that there'll be an attack on the Helicarrier."

At those words, the mood of the room quickly shifts into a tense, serious quiet; a feeling that is altogether different from the relaxed atmosphere before.

"As you all know, our enemies' whereabouts are still unknown to us, however. Which means that, because we can't go to them, we have to be prepared for them to come to us."

"Loki's followers, huh?" Rogers asks.  
Fury nods.  
And the Captain blinks his bright, blue eyes a few times, a plan rapidly formulating in his mind.

"Then we need to keep Loki and his staff under tighter surveillance. We need eyes and ears on the horizon at all times. Fury, what's the least defensible place on the ship?"

And the director tries to respond, but-

"No. There must be something more..." Thor murmurs, deep in thought. Then, to the others, "I know my brother. If his only desire were to be rescued, his followers would have attacked long ago."

Five expectant faces all turn in the same direction like little baby birds, and Fury sighs.

"Correct." he admits. "Loki's primary objective is to bring down the Avengers initiative from the inside, starting with," (and here he casts a furtive glance at Banner) "those more sensitive to changes in the environment."

There are light noises of awkward shifting and squirming as the meaning of that begins to dawn on them and so, Banner just offers a few understanding nods along with a stiff smile, more to reassure the others than anything else.

"I'll, uh...stick close to Sterling..." he promises.

Romanoff smirks.  
"I bet you will." she mutters on the sly.

Banner clears his throat very loudly then to cover up his embarrassment and Romanoff just snickers, earning them a round of confused stares.

"Uh. Is there some big group memo that I haven't gotten?" says Stark. "Cause, and maybe this is just me, but I don't really see how sticking Hulk next to that frothing spawn of hell is supposed to make things better."  
"'Spawn of hell?' Now that's a little harsh, don't you think?" Rogers frowns.  
"Hm. 'Harsh'. Let me think about that." Stark answers, stroking at his chin. Then, he gives a quick shrug. "Uhh. No. Nope. Not really. Hey, don't get me wrong. I respect her prickly attitude and ruthlessness just as much as the next person. She's quiet, right? Efficient. Been a big help at Stark Industries. That's why you should trust me on this one, old man. She's not like you, all apple pie and sunshine and...you know, little spangly outfits."

Rogers fidgets in his chair self-consciously.  
Then, "...'Little spangly outfits'?" he can't help but mutter.  
Thor shrugs. "If it makes you feel any better, the goateed human's been telling me I look like a 'costumed dork' all morning...Whatever that means."

Fury sighs in frustration as the distracted group begins to break off into little sections and chatter amongst themselves again.

"Focus. Please." he calls, rapping his knuckles against the table once, twice, three times.

As rag-tag a group as they may be, they _**try**_ to obey his command, at least.  
That sole fact is the only thing that helps keep Fury sane, even through this ridiculous circus of egos, some as preposterously inflated as others are absolutely decimated.

"Sterling's another Powered, Stark." Fury says, and before Tony's shock has a chance to sidetrack them again, he continues. "Dr. Banner, you're dismissed. Once I figure out where in the hell Agent Sterling is, i'll have her come by the lab. You are to keep her close at all times. Understood? "

Banner nods, and as he pushes the door open and sets foot back into the hallway from whence he came, he can hear the severe man continue rattling instructions off to the rest of the team.  
"I want a plan of defense, Captain. Agent Romanoff, work with him. You know Barton's likely to be involved in this attack, and you know his abilities best. Stark, what have you and the doctor learned about the portal?..."

The door falls shut again.

And in the sudden silence, Banner lets out a sigh as he slides his hands into his pockets and blinks up at the ceiling.

"Keep her close..." he echoes to no one.  
A wry chuckle escapes his lips.

And he wonders if, this time, he _**can**_...

* * *

_"Well, I guess this is the place..." Banner says, squinting up at the tall, multi-storied building (the employment agency), currently towering over the immediate area. It casts an enormous shadow that could send a nervous thrill running through nearly any passerby's spine.  
"Whew. Looks like it..." Ellie agrees._

_For a moment, the two of them just stand there, each lost in their own thoughts._  
_It's a big move for both of them, you see._  
_Because this, it's a sign as loud and clear as they can possibly make it._

_Banner is finished running._  
_Banner is finding a new life._  
_Banner has...**control**. Or something very much **like** control, at least, and he hasn't hurt anyone in such a long time that he's almost absolutely certain that he's finally found his solution to peace of mind at last.  
He looks over at that solution now._

_Lost in her own musings, Ellie doesn't notice him watching, of course, and so, for a long while, Banner is privy to the opportunity of seeing, for the very first time, some mysterious shadow of doubt and fear and uncertainty showing all over her distressed expression. (Probably the remnants of last night's breakdown.)_

_For a moment, he thinks to ask exactly what's on her mind._

_But then, Ellie Mills notices the weight of his gaze and her eyes suddenly change; become just as bright, clear, and pure as the cloudless skies overhead._

_"So, Mr. Starch, I guess this is where I leave you." Ellie says with a smile, shifting her bag higher on her person._

_Her cardigan, a deep green one this time, droops off of her shoulder as she does so and he catches just a glimpse of her bare skin, the curiously marred canvas of her body marked through by the more prominent line of her bra strap, before she tugs her clothes up again._

_He swallows in nervousness before politely focusing his eyes on her face instead._

_"Yeah, I, uh...guess so." he answers._

_"You know where i'll be?"  
_  
_"The bookstore."_

_"Yeup."_

_"...You know, Ellie, you don't have to wait for me..."_

_"I know...But I want to."_

_Banner can't help but smile at that._

_"Alright...Well...I'll try to be there by five."_

_"Okay." A short pause. Then, "I'll see you later, Buck..."_

_And he nods in response, but..._

_She doesn't move to leave. And the idea of her doing so doesn't thrill him exactly, but at the same time, Banner knows that the sooner he goes, the sooner he can come back to her._

_So, with that in mind..._

_"Ellie...I'm, uh, gonna...need my hand back." Banner says with a gentle laugh._

_Her cheeks redden as she immediately tugs her fingers away from his._  
_"I- oh." she stammers, with a nervous titter. "Sorry. Forgot...It's just, you know. Right. Um, ummm...Bye!"  
_

_And with one last little wave, she turns on her heel and starts off hurriedly down the street._

_But something about letting her go this way feels wrong._  
_Because even with the pleasantly giddy way they'd parted, her retreating figure looks so...small now, as it stumbles further and further away down the block._

_"Hey...Hey Ellie!" Banner calls, before he even knows it himself._

_She glances over her shoulder, curiously._

_What had he stopped for?_  
_He doesn't even know._  
_He wracks his brain furiously, but in the end, all he can scrounge up is,_

_"...Are you...gonna be okay?..."_

_She looks surprised at first.  
But then, she laughs and Banner's heart lifts. Because that laugh is just the same as the one he'd heard the day they'd first met._

_It's back again._

_And so is she._

_"Yeah...I'm good." comes the answer. "Thanks, Starch." _

* * *

_Predictably enough, the job that 'Buck Starch' ends up landing isn't a very glamorous one._

_Despite his gentle charm and soft-spoken manner, he's been nothing but a drifter for so long that he just barely manages to snag a position as the nighttime clerk at the convenience store just downstairs and across the street from the apartment.__(Paid by the hour. Minimum wage. Receives it in cash at the end of each shift.)_

_And so, after he hurries back to Ellie's side, the first thing Banner does is promise he'll work at finding something better._

_But she hardly seems to care about that._  
_She just smiles and offers happy congratulations before suggesting that, since they're already out and all, they take an early dinner at the park._

_So that's exactly what they set off to do.  
_

_But as they hurry their way to their destination, their hands don't find each other's again.  
Not after this:_

_"Hey, Ellie."_

_She isn't listening._

_"Ellie, hey. Hey, careful-!" Banner says._

_And at the very last minute, he yanks Ellie into his broad chest as she nearly goes pushing right between a couple in the middle of a very...intimate moment just outside of a cafe._

_In his arms, she blinks, as if waking from a strange daze._

_"I- What?...Oh..."  
_  
_Ellie laughs in embarrassment when she notices them; the slender blonde woman leaning into the tall brunette man and kissing him- full on the mouth, right then and there. As he presses his hand against her cheek and the woman gasps and the kiss suddenly deepens, both Banner and Ellie just blink in shock before they glance away awkwardly.  
_  
_Banner's grip on her arm slackens, but his touch suddenly begins to feel very hot on her skin and Ellie's face is flushed a light pink._

_They clear their throats in perfect unison._

_"Uh...We should probably go." Ellie mumbles quickly.  
"Yeah..." he answers._

_They rush to be on their way._

_And once they have scurried a few good feet ahead and are finally a good, safe distance from the other pair, Banner and Ellie sneak a peek at each other._

_When his dark eyes meet hers, she lurches back a little, startled by his gaze, and he does the exact same. But then, knowing they've each been caught out by the other, they manage to exchange an awkward smile followed by a nervous titter._

_That forced laughter, however, quickly grows. And it builds and it builds until it becomes the familiar sound that, up until now, neither of them had ever even realized they loved to hear so much; his soft, breathy chuckles mingling with her full-on, dorky cackles._

_But after awhile, even that honest laughter quickly trails off and dies._

_Because they have finally been met with the truth:  
They are not **them**.  
They are not that random man and random woman._

_And despite their joking about 'dates' and 'raisins', they've both now realized that it feels much too...**real** for them to be holding hands out in public, and this particular type of 'real' is a privilege that neither one of the two liars feels as if they've earned the right to pretend to be. It's silly, maybe, but it seems almost criminal, you see- to intrude upon the right of 'lovers', of 'average people', neither of which, either of them should ever, or, indeed, **could** ever become..._

_Faced with this, a dark, heavy cloud of their, either way, ill-fated crossroad, their confounding impasse, settles over them as they trudge and slog and plod that next long stretch down the street in complete silence, each of them oblivious to the other person's inner turmoil._

_But then, as they turn the corner, Ellie suddenly resolves herself to speak because otherwise, the doom and gloom feels as if it will suffocate her._

_As she begins to chatter on, perhaps a little too animatedly, about some far-fetched theory of bird spies, Banner sneaks a quick peek at her face._  
_As always, she doesn't even notice. This time, it's because Ellie is too preoccupied demonstrating an enthusiastic squawking noise, supposedly a birdcall, which she chortles about in half-embarrasment, half-amusement about afterward._

_He smiles down at her despite the sadness; this strange, small person who somehow seems to care for him. **Really **him. The first person who's done so in an eternity._

_But there are cold, hard rules he'd set for himself; set for himself long before he'd ever met her. _

_And now, he remembers them._  
_He remembers, he remembers, he remembers__..._

_But even still, one small voice manages to push through his darker thoughts and poison them with hope:_

_(But...**what if**? Just 'what if'...he...broke them?...)_

_Later that night as Banner lies down to sleep, he wonders about that; about rules, about exceptions...  
About when that simple line between them (between being friends and acquaintances and lovers) had turned into the monstrous wall it now seems to be._

* * *

He doesn't see her the entire day.

Well, sort of.  
As he walks into the mess hall for supper hours and hours later, he does catch a glimpse of her sitting across the table from Thor and listening intently to a story the man is telling her. His blue eyes twinkle in the lights and his cheeks are bulging with food as his face stretches into an endearing smile and Simza laughs.

Banner's breath catches in his throat at the sound of it.  
Because now that the facts are laid out straight, it's so obvious that it is _**her **_laugh and he begins to wonder how he ever could have missed it...

But, very suddenly, someone taps his left shoulder from behind.

It is the Captain, holding a massive bowl of fried rice in his hands, who Banner sees when he turns around.  
"You just gonna stand here and watch, doctor?"  
"Oh, uh..." Banner mumbles uncertainly.  
Rogers waits, but a straight answer never comes.  
"Why don't you grab something and come join us?" the Captain offers instead with a friendly wave of his arm.

And he walks off towards the table, expecting Banner to follow.

...Should he? _**Could **_he?  
Even after everything he'd said to her just that very morning?...

He sighs. Then, braces himself.

"...Better get over there, Banner..." he mutters under his breath.  
And 'get over there' he does.

When he perches himself at the very edge of the table with a tray of the cook's somewhat bastardized version of Chinese food, hardly anyone takes notice. But nobody quite makes a show of ignoring him the way Simza does and that only confirms his suspicion that she really must be angry, after all.

Or...no.  
Maybe not..

When her eyes accidentally catch on his, she blinks away quickly and shovels a forkful of rice into her mouth, her other hand clenching into a tight ball. He only glimpses her expression for a second, but...it isn't...angry...

Just...guilty...

She feels _**guilty**_.

He wonders at that.  
It wasn't_** she**_ who had ruined everything between them after all...

"Was that a present from Ms. Potts?" Banner suddenly hears Simza say to Stark. (And he suspects that this is mostly to distract herself from his presence.) "Never saw you wear it back when I was at the company."

"Yes, actually. Yes it was." answers the man proudly.  
He shows off the glinting watch currently clasped around his wrist, to the others at the table.

They try to feign interest. (The relationships forming between the members of the group are still new and delicate, after all, and it wouldn't do to offend their resident narcissist). Still, it is somehow completely obvious that nobody really cares.

Romanoff doesn't bother looking up from her egg roll.  
Thor barely nods before stuffing another entire ladle full of orange chicken into his cheeks.  
Rogers smiles rather uncomfortably.

"It's nice." Simza says, the only one among them to actually say anything. "Pepper always did have fantastic taste."  
She pauses to consider something, then smirks. "Well, maybe not so much in men, I guess."

Iron Man's jaw drops in mock offense.  
"I'm sorry. Are you suggesting that I, Tony Stark, head of Stark Industries, also known as **Iron Man** by some, a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, somehow fall short on your list of, no-doubt, more...eccentric standards?"

Simza just quirks a brow at his condescending tone.  
"'Playboy'? Really? You're not doing a very good job talking yourself up as a boyfriend here, Stark."

Tony's mouth opens to make some smart-ass remark to that, but then, having nothing to say, it shuts again.  
"...You know, I always knew there was a reason I didn't like you?" he huffs after a moment.

Simza laughs.  
"Can't stand the thought of having someone prefer Ms. Potts over you?" she jokes.

"Uh. No. Loving Potts, hating me- that's the...norm. Or so some people _**tell** _me, anyway." Stark sniffs. He is still clearly wounded and in denial over that and Simza hides an amused smirk in the face of his pouting.  
"Wow." she says. "You know, if it weren't for the agonized grimace on your face right now, I could almost believe that? I could almost believe that you've actually changed so good on you, Stark."  
"I'll have you know, Simza, i've been nothing but a perfect gentleman since the second I stepped onto this ship. Back me up here, will you, doc?"

Banner nearly jumps out of his seat as Stark suddenly tags him into the conversations with a sharp, friendly slap against his arm, and Simza blinks in surprise too. Then, she looks away.

"What? Oh...I, uh..." Bruce stammers.  
He falls into silence.

"Okay..." Stark frowns. "That's not exactly the enthused defense I was expecting but, no worries. People skills can always be improved upon, doc." he continues cheerfully.

"And you think you're fit to help him with that, Stark?" Romanoff cuts in with a quirked brow. "You did_** hear**_ my evaluation of you back in the day, right?"  
"I did. And thanks for that, by the way." he snarks. "'Textbook narcissism', was it?"  
The spy grins, but doesn't answer.

"Oh please. That's practically a compliment. Well, to you, anyway." Simza says. "2008 issue of MX Magazine. Your interview. You called **yourself **a narcissist, remember?"

Tony's mouth falls open to protest that, but then, he casts her a glance. A glance in which his eyes are beginning to sparkle ever-so-mysteriously.  
It sends a dreadful chill rippling through Simza's blood.

"...That was a special issue." Stark says. "That magazine only printed 5,000 copies worldwide. And you just happened to know that, Sterling?"

"Oh...Er. I..." she stutters, clamming up.  
"Been reading up on me, have we?" he says with a smirk.  
"Uh. No. Just...reading...in general."  
"Uh-huh. And do you often read 'adult' magazines?"

Simza flushes, trying to figure out which is the worse evil here.  
Having everybody at the table think her a huge fangirl. Of Stark. Or having everybody at the table think her a huge perv.

Perv.  
Perv is probably worse.

But then, she looks at him, eyeing her smugly with a smarmy smile, and her stupid mouth answers before she can stop it.  
"Maybe I do." it says defiantly. "What, a girl can't...um, like looking at naked people too?"

Rogers chokes on a forkful of rice.  
"I'm sorry, what are we talking about?" he coughs, as Romanoff pats him on the back.  
Thor blinks his eyes a few times in shock. "I'm...not entirely sure we want to know...Do we?" he says.

Stark snickers.

Simza stuffs some food in her mouth and looks down at the table, face feeling hot in embarrassment, but only because she knows that _**he**_, Bruce Banner, has just barely managed to suppress a spit-take, too.  
"I'm...gonna get a napkin." she mumbles. "Anyone need anything?"

Stark is still too busy laughing to answer her.  
The others all shake their heads.  
Banner glances down at his empty plastic cup of water for a split-second, but says nothing. They're on rocky ground, after all.

She hurries away.

And in the absence of her presence the others begin to strike up new conversation about work, about their lives, about the weaknesses and strengths of their abilities.

When Simza returns a good while later, she does so balancing a tray loaded with, of course napkins, but also a veritable pile of other things.

She sets a plate of Chinese doughnuts down near Stark's end. Because she knows he likes them, and despite the snark, he _**is**_ a sort of weird friend. He nods in thanks.  
Then she pushes a few cups of fruit puddings onto the table for the others to take if and when they want them.  
(Thor takes three and Simza thinks to herself with some relief that it's a good thing she brought extra.)

Banner tries to focus on his broccoli when he feels Simza footsteps pass behind him.

But then, unexpectedly, an arm sticks right between the space between his and Stark's shoulder and a new cup of water plops itself down right beside his tray.

Surprised, he looks up and he is met with, of course, the sight of her, only much closer to him than he had ever anticipated.

She says nothing when their eyes meet.

And she is gone, already settling in her own seat again, before he can even utter thanks.

"Mmm..." Thor sighs, nodding in satisfaction as he empties his second portion of dessert into his mouth.  
Simza laughs.  
"Want to try some of this custard, Thor?" she asks him.  
He nods enthusiastically.

Dinner continues.

Banner loses himself in his own thoughts.

* * *

_I'm so...sorry about this chapter you guys...Holy shite...asjbksjbf..._


	8. The Things That Break Us

Hello again everyone!  
So sorry for the late update! I've had issues with my internet, with my job, basically just...with everything.  
But thank you so, so, so much for following, favorite-ing(?), and reviewing. I really appreciate it! It's still crazy to me that so many of you think my stuff is worth reading. This one's for all of you!

Also, as always, let me know if there are any concerns, suggestions, etc.  
KFMKDG...Why is posting a new chapter still so scary?...

P.S. This chapter will most likely undergo editing once I get back from work tomorrow. For now, just thought i'd put it out there. I'm definitely open to re-working it! And i'm so sorry that it's so...I don't even know...More actiony bits coming soon! And I promise, they won't ALWAYS be in the lab. I'll change it up, I promise!

* * *

**_Day 18._**

_For Ellie Mills, it's strange now: coming home to an empty house without Bruce Banner there, casually waiting up for her with a book or a warm drink in hand and all the while acting as if him being there at exactly that time is just a happy accident._

_It shouldn't **be** strange, of course._  
_Because this is the way things had been for a few long years even before him, and back then, she'd never once thought her messy, cramped apartment too huge or cold or lonely._  
_But in this case, with the sudden absence of **him** in particular, things are different._

_Something in her feels...noticeably hollow when they're not together; when she's met with some example of how things used to be before Bruce Banner appeared, when she's forced to see just how big a change he's made in even the smallest aspects of her day-to-day._

_It scares her a little.  
(It scares her a lot...)_  
_Because despite what she thinks of SHIELD now, she's still an interrogator._  
_One to whom carrying out impossibly callous acts of destruction, hurt, murder, has been made effortlessly easy._

_And yet, choose a life. Put that life into this very same pair of supposedly capable hands- tell her to protect it- and suddenly, 'Agent Sterling' is nothing but a nervous, clumsy fledgling all over again, letting her uncertain feelings infect her with thoughts she shouldn't even be entertaining. (Well, not until **after** Fury has given her the go-ahead to bring Banner in for a meeting with SHIELD, anyway. But who knows when that could be?)  
__And what's worse is she can't bring herself to stop..._

_She likes making him laugh.  
She likes **him** making **her** laugh._  
_She likes playing out the catch-and-release of bashful glances across the breakfast table every morning and the living room each night, and she likes that with each passing day, the empty, black self-loathing in Banner's otherwise kind face is starting to change and look more and more like...calm._

_So, what can she do, really?..._

_With a tired sigh, 'Ellie Mills' trudges into her apartment, barely pausing to kick off her shoes and toss her keys onto the kitchen counter before collapsing on the sofa.  
_  
_For a long moment after, she just breathes, blinks at the ceiling, thinks..._

_But then, when her hopeless tangle of thoughts proves too frustrating to even begin to sort through, she just sighs again and tries **not **to think instead._  
_Searching for something to distract her, she glances around the familiar scene of her living her room and i__s suddenly met with the sight of a neatly folded blanket which is stacked beneath a pillow which is stacked beneath a book, all of which is sitting on top the armrest together._

_They're his things, of course._  
_(Well, **hers**, technically. But his for now.)_

_And Simza doesn't know it, but a smile starts across her face at just the thought of that as she reaches out a hand to pull the book towards her. She flips through the pages absently, thinking to herself all the while that it's a strange, strange thing: to be happy. Even despite the train wreck her life has somehow become._

_For a second, she wonders if he is happy, too._  
_(She hopes he is...)_

_And that is the last thing she remembers before she drifts off._

* * *

_Simza is usually anything **but **a light sleeper.  
But just this once, the sound of soft footsteps lightly treading across the living room floor is enough to jolt her awake._

_She jumps up, gasping in both surprise and sleepy confusion, as she turns her head this way and that, searching for the source of the noise. The book she'd been thumbing through topples to the ground from where it'd been resting over her face with a light crash and at that, a dim figure in the doorway freezes dead in its tracks.  
When it sees her, however, the shadow relaxes. _

_"Oh...Hey, Ellie. Didn't see you there." Banner says in greeting. Then, eyes wandering over her dazed, disheveled appearance, he cringes apologetically, "Sorry...Did I...wake you?"_

_Slowly coming to, Simza can only manage a sleepy smile to reassure him._  
_"No, no. I just- Uh...Well, okay. Yeah, actually, you did." she laughs. "But no worries. I was gonna get up soon anyway. Here. Sit."_

_And then, with a soft groan, she hauls her exhausted body over to make room on the couch._  
_He settles beside her._  
_But when he catches the first glimpse of her face up close, his eyes widen in surprise first, then light with amusement._

_"So, uh...Long day?" he asks casually, biting back a grin._  
_"Urgh...Something like that." comes the unsuspecting response._  
_Banner nods and then peeks down at the book, now splayed out on the ground. He picks it up, inspects the edges, and steals another look at her, seeming to study something very carefully.  
Only then does Simza notice his mischief riddled smile._

"..._What?..." she says, eyes beginning to narrow in suspicion._

_"No, it's, uh...nothing." Banner merely replies.  
__He tries to hide his laugh, but it comes leaking out inevitably in the form of a soft chortle and seeing that, s__he doesn't believe his words of course, and so she gets up, marches over to the hallway mirror and then...gasps._

_Because, dammit._

_Stretching the entire left side of her face is a bright red imprint of the book's pages criss-crossed over markings from the seams of a throw pillow._

_"Christ..." Ellie mumbles, quickly slapping a hand over her sleep wrinkle in embarrassment.  
_  
_Banner laughs.  
__"It's...not so bad." _

_She flashes him a look of mock annoyance before returning to the sofa, but her cheeks pinken considerably before she asks,__"...It's...erm...probably not going away any time soon, is it?" _  
_"Yeah, probably not...but hey, it's a, uh...nice pattern...Impressively detailed and all that." he offers politely.  
__  
"Buck, my cheek looks like a waffle fry." Ellie deadpans._

_"Well, yeah...There is that..." he confesses with a chuckle._

_And she can't help but laugh at that._  
_"Gee. Thanks."_

_He offers up a sheepish shrug in return and then, the two of them sit in comfortable silence, just enjoying being where they are, side-by-side._

_But then,_

_"Hey. You think we can play tic-tac-toe on it?"  
_  
_"...Uh...What?" _

_"Tic-tac-toe." Ellie repeats brightly. "Look."  
And he does just that as she rifles through her bag, which she'd left lying on the floor just a foot away, until she finds a pen.  
"Alright...tell me if i'm way off." she breathes.  
_  
_Before Banner can even ask what she means, Ellie is tracing the lines of the sleep wrinkle on her face with the felt tip, pausing every second or so to feel with the pad of her index finger where the imprint is._

_"There. Ta-da! Done." she chimes, capping the pen again._

_It takes a second for him to put the pieces together._

_"...Uh...You want us to play tic-tac-toe on...your face?" he says, beginning to laugh again._  
_  
Ellie smiles at seeing **his **smile._  
_"I figure why not, you know? I look like a waffle anyway...So, you in?"__  
_

_It makes for a ridiculous scene:_  
_A young woman in prim office wear with a disaster of black marks across her face.  
All the while wearing the happiest, most hopeful grin Banner's ever seen._

_"Okay...Sure." he agrees._

_"Rock paper scissors to decide the order?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Ready? __Rock, paper, scissors!"_

_"Oh..."_

_"Looks like that's me. Hehehe." Ellie cackles in her usual way. "I call second!"_  
_"Second?" he echoes._  
_"Second." she nods._

_And then she hands the pen over, no explanation, and h__e fumbles with the cap for a long while as she shifts to get comfortable._

_When he looks up to make his move,_

_his breath hitches._

_Because...  
__He's suddenly so...close to her. He'd venture to say she's very nearly sitting in his lap, in fact, pressing into his side the way she is, tilting her left cheek up towards him, and waiting.  
_

_After taking a breath, Banner slowly places one of his hands just under her chin to steady his writing. Her face seems so much...smaller than he'd expected compared to his calloused, thick fingers and rough, hot hand. He could fit the entire curve of her face right into his palm..._  
_Too caught up in the moment to stop himself, his thumb unwittingly brushes down across her cheekbone in a much more intimate gesture than originally intended, very slightly smudging the boundary lines of the game, and Banner immediately pulls back, afraid of how Ellie will respond.  
But her startled eyes find his and her lips only settle into a smile that is somehow different from any one he's ever seen her wear before, and yet, is beautiful all the same: surprised, confused, trusting..._

_He could forget an entire lifetime's worth of past troubles with that look._  
_If only he let himself..._

_All of that self-loathing, however, quickly goes out the window again as the very tip of Simza's tongue suddenly pokes out between her lips in a quick, childish taunt, ending any semblance of a too-intimate moment.  
_  
_Banner laughs at the inherit shyness behind that gesture.  
_

_"...Okay. Well, uh...Here goes..." he says, and then he carefully leans in and draws a clumsy 'X' just below her eye._

_She remains still as stone the entire time. Then,_

_"Alright." Ellie says. "Now it's me."_

_He hands the writing utensil over, and as she takes it, Ellie suddenly laughs._

_"I didnt think this through..." she sighs._

_And Banner sees what she means. He imagines it might be difficult for her to mark up her own face without seeing the tic-tac-toe lines._

_"Hold on. Let me get a mirror." Ellie continues._

_"Oh, wait. I, uh...I could...help you out."  
Why?...Why on Earth had he said **that**?  
Banner has no idea._

_But, he makes good on his word anyway and _s_he blinks in surprise as he carefully arranges his fingers around around her own, which is still gripping the pen._

_He looks at her quickly, wondering if his actions are unwarranted._

_Judging by her expression, they aren't. Far from it, in fact. _

_"Alright. Draw me a circle in the middle then, Dr. Starch." Ellie sings. "And no cheating!" _

_And slowly, heart pounding (which Banner realizes is ridiculous seeing how this was **his **idea in the first place), he guides her hand up to her cheek and scrawls out a small 'O'._

_It comes out horribly misshapen, and they're both feeling timid as hell, and they can't, for the life of them, even begin to figure out what the other person really thinks about any of this. Not really...  
_  
_Still, as their eyes meet and they smile a light-hearted smile and they nod at each other once in silly satisfaction, they know they wouldn't quit this night for anything in the world._

_So they hang on for as long as they can._

_(Because today, it's their one precious slip-up. And they may be breaking the rules, true, but it's just the little rules for now._ _What could be the harm?...)_

_Only after three solid hours of iron-fistedly **willing** themselves to stay wide awake does their resolve wear out, and after that, they are both snoring softly beside each other on the floor, just minutes after finally abandoning the game in favor of some friendly haggling over a reward for Banner, the winner of their 15 rounds- the 15 rounds which have left the both of them marked with criss-crosses all over: cheeks, foreheads, wrists..._

_And hands._  
_**Their **hands, which have unknowingly found their way back together in their sleep and linger, all throughout the night, just a very small distance apart._

_A few hours later, when bleary Simza wakes first, she closes that distance._  
_And then, she sits there in silence and watches the sun rise with nothing but the warmth from Banner's hand to keep her lonely insides from bursting to flame and burning her to the ground._

_SHIELD, Hulk, her real name...  
Those are secrets they'll have to deal with some day. Simza hasn't forgotten that._

_But just for now, just until the moment's passed, she'll take what she can:_

_This calm before the inevitable storm.  
_

* * *

The next morning, when Simza pokes her head into the lab, something is very...unusual.

Unlike every other time she's been here, there are two steaming mugs of coffee, both full to the brim- spilling over, in fact- laid out on one of the tables and waiting to greet her. Thin crescents of dark brown mark the surface of the stark white lab station all over, forming a trail of conspicuous rings that lead to the places where a nervous hand had (just recently, judging by the still-wetness **_of_** those rings) placed the mugs down, only to move them, and then move them once again in order to make room for new lab equipment.

There is music playing from a radio in the background, too.  
And just where on Earth (or the Helicarrier, to be more precise) this radio _**came**_ from, Simza hasn't a clue. But, that particular question, she is currently much too distracted to wonder about. So instead, she just stands there for another moment, staring blankly, as one song drifts and fades, and a new one begins; just as soft and pleasant to her as the earthy scent of coffee wafting through the room.

It certainly makes for an inviting scene.

But that is exactly why Simza can't help but wonder if she's wandered into the wrong place by mistake.  
(In their last real conversation with each other, Banner hadn't exactly been begging her to stay around, after all.)

But..no...she couldn't possibly have the wrong room because she's positive there is only one lab on the ship...

Or, well, she _**thought**_ she was positive, at least, but is now growing less and less certain by the second.

Cautiously, she takes just one step further inside, straightening out her new, somehow already-slightly rumpled SHIELD uniform, and smoothing back her hair self-consciously as she does so.

And at the sound of her shoe hitting the floor after just that very first step, Bruce Banner suddenly pokes his head out from behind the cover of a cabinet door.

Simza can't help but jump at the realization of his unexpected presence.

But once the shock wears off, a whole new worry settles in Sterling's mind: of how he will react to seeing her here again.

She takes a breath to steel herself for the anger.  
But...

"Oh...Hey Simza. I was, uh, hoping you'd stop by today..." Banner says, face crinkling into a gentle smile that renders her speechless.  
He shuts the cabinet, then walks over, sliding his glasses onto his face with one hand, and gripping a stack of printouts with his other.

"Uh..." is all Sterling can manage in response.

And the mystified expression on her face is somehow so like her that Banner struggles to smother a quiet laugh as he sets the papers down.  
"You want some coffee?"

Simza is too perplexed to answer.

She just blinks at him for a long moment, trying to figure out what the hell his game is.  
But after an entire few minutes of not receiving a response, Banner's forehead creases in concern and he leans in to peer at her face, and at that, she finally snaps herself out of her ridiculous daze.

"Erm...Yes. Thanks. Sorry." Simza quickly says.  
His face relaxes.  
"Sure." he answers.

As he turns his attention to the mugs, she dares to venture a few steps closer and just as she is within arms reach, Banner turns on her and asks, "Do you take any sugar or cream?"

(He knows the answer to this, of course.  
Still, he figures that since she seems to be trying so hard to hide who she is, he'd better play along.  
For now, at least. Because it is oh-so-difficult to keep his delayed relief at seeing her again from bursting through the seams as it is, but it's all he can do for her.)

"Uh. No sugar. Just cream." Simza replies. "Lots of cream. I 'm talking, dump so much of that crap in i'm drinking coffee-flavored milk."

He laughs at that.  
"Alright..."  
And with that, he tears open, suspiciously enough, exactly seven packets of creamer and pours the contents into the cup. When he is finished, he carefully slides the now practically beige-colored drink across the table to her.

"...Thanks." she says.

"You're welcome."

He raises his own mug of black coffee to his lips then, leaning against the back counter with one hand stuffed into the pocket of his neatly-pressed pants.  
Every once in awhile, between sips, his dark eyes flicker in her direction, and when her eyes catch on his purely by coincidence, he smiles at her.  
The very picture of calm and content.

Simza lapses into a dumbfounded silence as she falls into a chair in her usual corner of the room, frowning into her own cup as she takes a hesitant sip. _  
_

"You were right about this coffee, by the way." Banner suddenly says with a wince. "Not great, is it?"

She can't help but laugh at that.  
"Yeah. Helicarrier really needs a new machine. Don't worry though. I brought a whole pack of instant with me, so starting tomorrow I can-..."  
Her words stop dead on her lips when she suddenly realizes that maybe_** that's** _what this is all about.

Maybe he's just trying to find a new, nicer way to get rid of her.  
Her hand tightens around the handle of her mug and she wonders just how many more times she'll be turned away by Bruce Banner in her lifetime.

"Tomorrow you can...what?" Banner says, interrupting her thoughts.

"Huh? Uh. I just...tomorrow, I can...leave some for you." Simza finishes with a tight smile.

"Oh...Yeah, i'd...appreciate that, Sterling. Thanks."

She nods.

It is a long moment before either of them speak again.

"Or, uh, you could stop by. If you wanted to."

"What?"  
"Sorry?"  
"Did you-..."  
"Uh..."  
"I thought-..."  
"No..."  
"Oh...Okay..."

More quiet.  
More awkward.

And at last, the odd uneasy feeling between them becomes so suffocating that Banner sighs and decides he'd better just get to it.

"Hey, listen..." he starts. "I'm sorry...about what happened yesterday. I didn't mean to go off on you like that. It's just...been awhile since anyone's tried to, I don't know, stick around, I guess."

The laugh Simza gives him in return is bitter and hopelessly self-depricating.

"You don't have to do this, doctor. I mean, I appreciate it and everything, but it's okay..." she says. "I'm a big girl, you know? I may not have acted like one yesterday, exactly..." she snorts. "but trust me. I'll work with you just fine. And only when Fury absolutely needs me to be here. Otherwise, i'm gone. I promise."  
And for her, that is the end of that.

Banner, however, isn't finished.

"Yeah...Yeah. No, I...I know. I just...I've realized that maybe it's not so bad. You being here..."

Simza nearly chokes on her mouthful of coffee.  
Then, she quickly composes herself and blinks down at her hands before she can give too much away.  
She doesn't even think to hope that his words are true.

"Careful there, doctor...If you keep on like that, i'll start to think you like having me around..." she jokes. Her voice is teasing but quiet, and her eyes, carefully avoiding his.

And something in Banner's chest constricts painfully at the sight of that, and so his next few words come with more conviction than he's expressed in ages.

"I do, Simza." he answers. "Like having you around."

All the air catches in her throat.

"...Oh..." she breathes in a small voice.

A pause.

Then, "Oh." she says again, louder this time. "Well...Glad to hear that."  
She tries for nonchalant, but despite being an interrogator, is somehow unable to hide the growing smile breaking across her previously guarded expression.

Seeing her like this now, Banner can hardly keep from smiling himself and he does so in his peculiar way, head ducked down, shy, glancing at her through his glasses.  
Because, God...  
It's _**her**_. Not even a sliver of doubt about it anymore.  
It's really her and he's really here and all of those irritating, clumsy, feelings he thought he'd never have the chance to feel again are starting to well up despite the dangers; despite what he's already done to her once before.

So he starts to wonder: what can he do differently_** this**_ time? Without crossing any lines, of course...  
(Because he's ready to face her as a friend just trying to fix his guilty past.  
But he doesn't quite have the willpower to resist anything more.)

"...Hey, you're not wearing purple today." Simza says cheerfully.

"Sorry? Oh. Yeah." Banner says, glancing down at his shirt. "Guess not."  
"So what does yellow mean then?"  
And just as he is about to answer, the door pushes open and Tony Stark walks in, jaw hanging open in a loud, unabashed yawn.

"Mm. Morning." he mumbles to the doctor.  
He passes by Simza without even noticing she's there.  
Then, he does a double take before lurching back in exaggerated alarm.

"Well. Look at you. Never thought i'd live to see the day." Tony says, giving her SHIELD uniform and clean hairdo the once over. "They'll have to write a new classic for this. I'm thinking a fairytale." he says. "They could call it 'The Little Capybara That Turned Human'."

Simza rolls her eyes.  
"Don't you ever have anything nice to say, Stark?"  
"I don't know. Do **you** ever **not** look like a back-stabbing traitor?" Stark immediately returns.  
"Oh, for the love of- let it go already, will you, Tony? Now it's just sad."  
"Hey, I-"

"Alright, alright. Let's all just...settle down/" Banner says, stepping between them with a soft laugh.

Simza narrows her eyes but clamps her mouth shut.  
Stark does the same.  
But he sticks his tongue out at her first.  
She's too dignified for such childishness, he thinks to himself in satisfaction.  
(Except she isn't.)

Simza does it right back and Stark face falls before he gasps dramatically.  
"Doc, she stuck her tongue out at me." he tattles to the doctor.  
"Yeah. But, uh, you did it first." Banner says, without even glancing up from a report.

Simza cackles in triumph.  
Stark sniffs in dissatisfaction.

"Well, now i'm just feeling unfairly victimized." he pouts. "You know, I can comb my hair and put on a body suit, too, if that's what you're into, doc. I should warn you though, between me and Simza here, Simza doesn't stand a chance. It's my pecs, you know? What can I say, they look great in skin-tight clothing. Or out of clothing. Whatever."

Bruce laughs at that.  
He doesn't appreciate the mental image those last few sentences have conjured up in his mind, exactly, but he knows that Stark is harmless beneath all of that ego.  
"Nah, it's nothing like that. I'm just...calling it how I see it...I don't really have a lot of room to worry about, uh, other things anyway..."

"Oh, come on, doc. You really expect me to believe that after years and _**years** _of hiding out in the middle of nowhere, you don't have even the smallest stirrings of, let's call it 'friendship' for your sake, towards Sterling here? I mean, she's a little rough around the edges. But seeing as how i'm currently taken, she's not so bad." he jokes.

"Tony..." Simza chastises with a shake of her head, at the very same time that Banner mumbles, "Uh...I...never really thought about-..."

Banner and Simza exchange uncomfortable glance and Stark chuckles, knowingly.

"Alright, fine. I'll drop it." he says, holding up his hands in a show of defeat.

And Simza breathes out a sigh of relief.  
A little too soon, unfortunately.

Because as Stark begins to set up his own work station for the day, he continues with, "But seriously, doc. When's the last time you actually had a date? Or, you know, whatever qualifies as a date to you? Cause I mean, a little extra fun, someone to warm your bed at night, a woman to go home to..." He shrugs. "Who knows? Could be good for the other guy."

Banner shakes his head.  
"I...honestly wouldn't know where to start even if I _**did** _want that..." he lies.

"How long's it been?"  
"Uh…Like I just said, Tony, I-..."  
"Come on. Work with me here. How long? Three years? Four?"

Banner lets out a slow sigh, not meeting Simza's gaze.  
"Six." he mumbles.

Sterling swallows a hard lump in her through.  
Stark doesn't notice.

"Mhm. Thought so." he merely says with a grin. "Who was she?"

"She was...uh, just some girl I met a long time ago." Banner replies casually. But nobody misses the sudden thickness in his tone as he clips a wire and begins to wind it around a loop.

"...Uh-huh. And i'm guessing this particular story doesn't have a happy ending?" Stark says.

Banner lets out a dry laugh.  
"When do my stories ever?..."

"Fair point." Stark nods. "Okay. So what happened then? Why'd it end?"

The doctor sighs and blinks at nothing for awhile, wondering how in the world to reply.  
Because the truth is, there are a million reasons why it is over.  
And each of those reasons begin and end with him.

But those things are not meant for anyone but her to know, just yet. And so, in the end, he settles on the easiest (and, at the same time, most difficult) answer.

"The, uh, last time I saw her, she was bleeding out on the floor of her apartment..." Banner says. "I shouldn't have even been there, but I was younger, you know? Less...smart. And I thought that with her around, I don't know, the other guy...wouldn't show up."

Stark doesn't move or blink or say anything for a long moment. Then, he walks over and claps his hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Hey. I'm sorry." he says evenly.

"...Yeah, me too." Banner murmurs.  
Then, drawing in a breath, he collects himself. Turns to Simza, in fact, with a small smile playing on his lips and says, "You kinda remind me of her sometimes, you know..."

"Uh...I...Er...do?" Simza stammers in response.

Banner nods.  
Simza blinks.

Stark smiles.

"Well, all the more reason to take _**this** _poor little one out then, wouldn't you say?" Stark says.

Banner frowns in confusion.  
"Uh..." he begins.

Because, despite Stark being known for inappropriate social behavior, Banner never thought that he'd quite suggest something like this even after hearing what happened.

Seeing the doctor's puzzled expression, however, Stark gives him a sigh and a wry smile. As if _**Banner** _is the one who isn't understanding something important.

"All of us have a reason not to get back out there, doc." Stark says, uncharacteristically seriously. "You think 'Red-ledger Romanoff' wants to be on the field killing more people, even if it is for SHIELD? You think Steve Rogers wants to be here searching for an object that'll only remind him of everything he's lost? And what about Agent Sterling? I mean, I don't know the exact details of what went down between her and Fury exactly, but I have good hunch, judging by all the scary glaring, that she'd rather not be here either."

Stark pauses then, to let his words sink in before stepping closer so that Banner's thoughts don't stray, and continuing. "See, but here's the thing, doc. For better or worse, we're all here anyway. Each and every one of us, even Thor who's supposed to be, you know, a _**God**_, we've screwed up more times than we can probably count...But we're here." he says. "What makes you think you're any different?"

Banner blinks in surprise for a very long moment as he considers that.

And, satisfied with knowing the doctor has taken his words to heart, Stark returns to his work station and busies himself with this and that.

"...Wow." Simza breathes, breaking the long silence. For once, she looks genuinely impressed and she has to struggle to keep her secret admiration for Iron Man from leaking out her tone. "That...That was shockingly insightful of you, Stark." she says.

Tony shrugs proudly.  
"It's been known to happen once or twice. Don't get used to it."

Simza laughs and as she turns in her seat, Banner's eyes suddenly meet hers.

There's a deep furrow between his brows, but his eyes spell hurt.  
And as the radio suddenly begins to play a very familiar, soft tune,

Simza's mind goes numb.

* * *

_It all begins to come crashing down on **day 19**._

_Head bowed, Bruce Banner pushes through the empty streets of the city after his shift, thinking furiously on what he'd seen playing on the TV set just over the counter where he works._

_It was 11 PM._  
_The store was empty of customers._  
_The channel was set to the news._  
_By all accounts, it had started out a typical night._

_And so Banner was content to ignore the TV, as usual, and focus on a book he'd scrounged up from somewhere instead._  
_But then, something...something on TV caught his interest._  
_A story._

_'...and authorities are scrambling for new evidence regarding the incident that happened nearly three weeks ago at a small dive bar know as 'Long Island'. Although it was previously thought to be a gas explosion that caused the property damage along with the hospitalization of nearly ten civilians, the public is now calling that into question after an anonymously released video of, what appears to be a green beast of some sort, escaping the bar. No comment has been received from officials at present."  
_  
_And after **that**...  
__There had been footage. Actual footage._  
_Of that monster, of the 'other guy-...of...of himself, playing reflected in the dark of his eyes.  
_  
_Right from the get-go, it's a scene of chaos._  
_A towering, bulky, hideously green beast, not speaking a coherent word, just roaring and shouting, breaking glasses, upturning tables, shoving screaming people aside with a mere swing of his wrist as they try and try to dodge him and run. In a matter of seconds, the bar is nearly empty...  
And only then, he turns to the camera and gives on last terrifying, teeth-gnashing growl before punching out the brick wall with a loud crash! and running through a cloud of dust and down the street on all fours like a mindless savage..._

_At the memory of it, Banner's footsteps grow quicker as he heads for home._

_He's scared._  
_Beyond all reason, he's scared that Ellie's seen the story and that somehow, she'll put the pieces together and figure out that the **thing** is him._

_With a cold, dead pang, it hits him then and he starts awake from the sweet, sweet dream that the past few weeks have been.  
_  
_It's time to go._  
_It's time to leave Ellie behind..._

_But **can** he?...  
__Banner isn't sure._

_He ponders the question, argues with himself heatedly the entire way, and so, when he unlocks the front door and steps foot inside, he doesn't even see it, at first._

_But then, he flicks on the light, and..._  
_The scene playing out before him is so bizarre, all other thoughts dissipate._

_"Ellie?..."  
_  
_Mid-twirl, she freezes in her tracks.  
"Uh...Hi, Buck." she says with a nervous titter, turning to face him slowly. Her cheeks are blooming a deep red._

_"...What are you doing?"_

_"I...Er...was...Practicing." she admits sheepishly._

_"For what?" Banner asks._  
_He steps closer, sets his key on the counter, and only then does he hear the soft music playing in the background._

_"Oh, I have-...to go to this work party tomorrow. It's...for...corporate networking. You know. Boring stuff." Simza says, with a nervous laugh.  
It unsettles her how close she just came to blurting out something ridiculously honest along the lines of, 'I have to go on an infiltration mission tomorrow, Bruce!'.  
She is very careful not to let her guard down as she continues.  
"The person who usually does this sort of thing is in the hospital. She had an accident, so they're sending me instead__...Dancing isn't really my thing though. Hence the practice..."_

_"Oh..." Banner nods._

_Ellie stands around awkwardly for a second more. Then, fiddling with the edges of her blouse, she flashes him a timid smile. "Do you...think you might be able to help me out?"_

_"Uh. Oh. Um...Nah, i'm...i'm not really a dancer either." Banner says with a half-hearted laugh._

_She nods, and it is a challenge to smother her disappointment._  
_"Oh...Well, okay. Um...You want something to drink? Or eat? Then we can watch some TV-"_

_Panic rises in his chest._  
_"No, no, no! Wait!-"_

_She jumps back in surprise._  
_Blinks at him for an eternity and mentally, Banner kicks himself for his suspicious behavior._

_Luckily, all Ellie does is edge a little closer, face shifting into a look of concern now._  
_"Buck...Is...everything okay?" she asks.  
_  
_"Uh...Yeah, sorry. Everything's...Everything's fine." he lies, forcing a smile that he hopes, he prays seems genuine. "I just didn't want to interrupt your...practicing..."  
_  
_"...Really?"  
_  
_"Yeah."_

_For another long moment, Ellie says nothing._  
_Then, she nods to herself decisively._

_"Okay. Dance with me."_  
_And without even waiting for answer, she tugs him by the sleeve of his shirt into the middle of the living room.  
"Ellie, I-" he tries to protest.  
"Nope. Shush." she says.  
And then, she looks him steadily in the eyes before slowly and carefully resting one hand on his shoulder._

_Banner lets out a shaky breath as she settles it there._

_And he doesn't know how or why, but just this...Just the feel of her hand on his arm makes the rising vortex of violent, swirling emotions sink down, down, down..._  
_Until the 'other guy', the Hulk, the monster- is gone, and only he, the man, remains._

_Her other hand mimics the first around his opposite shoulder._

_And then, in a soft, soothing voice, "Now, put your hand on my waist, Buck. Come on." _

_He obeys, head finally clear enough to register a little bit of shyness (but not enough to recognize the guilt in Simza's expression as she lowers her eyes to the floor)._

_She leans into him.  
__He pulls her as close as he dares._  
_And then they take the first step.  
_  
_All in all, it's more swaying than dancing, but it's nice all the same.  
And after just one song passes, it's like all is right with the world again._

_Er. Because they're friends, of course..._

_Friends. Two of them. Here. Together.  
_

_..._

_Dancing, yes. But...just in the living room...at night...with...quiet music playing in the background..._

_But still, not weird. Not weird at all._

_But just as Simza is trying to comfort herself with that last thought, a low rumble of thunder starts just outside, and then the light, pitter patter of a romantic rain hitting the pavement sounds throughout the room._

_…_

_Okay. Now it's a little weird._

_She peeks up at careful, cautious Banner's face, afraid he will retreat inside himself, the way he's always done before in situations like this one._

_But just this once, Banner doesn't seem to mind it.  
She relaxes._

_"Hey Buck, what's the best kind of tea?" Ellie asks.  
Her voice is gentle and pleasant, murmured against his chest where she can hear the slightly erratic beating of his heart._

_"...Uh...I...don't know...Green? Chai?...Black?" he responds, fumbling through the sudden question.  
Ellie smiles and lifts her head.  
"No. Buck," She pauses. Then asks again, more slowly, "what's the best kind of tea?"  
And the glimmer in her eye finally gives it away._

_Oh. It's a joke, he realizes._

_He thinks for a moment._  
_"Uh...I don't know. What is it?"_

_"Honesty. Hones-**tea**. Get it?" she laughs._  
_He laughs too._

_"Spur-of-the-moment?" he says. "Or...are you trying to lead into something here?"  
The swaying stops._

_Ellie's cheeks flush at being caught red-handed. Then, she gives a resigned sigh and the dancing resumes._

_"I just...want you to know that...you don't have to go it alone." she says. __"You can trust me, you know." _

_"...I know." he answers._

_And he believes it._

_He looks at her and she looks at him._

_And god...he wants this._  
_He wants this more than anything._  
_And just for a second, he entertains thoughts of maybe, just **maybe** letting himself have this as their lips fall ever closer and closer together..._

_That is when it happens.  
A huge blast of trumpets followed by a loud, jazzy exclamation of "...and you've gotta kiss her right there! 'Cause there's love in the air! And she'd be a dream that came true..."_

_They jump back in perfect unison, hearts hammering away in their chests, faces burning hot, before they remember it is the radio._

_Ellie laughs and turns the wretched thing off._

_"That scared me half to death." she says._  
_"I...Uh..." Banner stammers, hardly believing what nearly just came to pass. "Yeah...Me too...Well, goodnight, Ellie."_

_And he makes a break for the bathroom so he can escape from the awkward atmosphere following their almost-kiss._  
_She stops him._

_"Hey, wait. We don't **need** mood music for this, do we?" she laughs._

_"I...Sorry?" he frowns, thinking he can't possibly have heard right._

_But Ellie smiles._

_"I'm saying," she says. "that i've already thrown my rules about not liking strange men who I find on the street out the window, Starch."_

_And she's suddenly looking up at him with the most gut-wrenchingly honest eyes he's ever seen and she's just waiting for him to give the 'okay'; the 'I want this too'; the 'Rules are made to be broken'._

_If ever there were an opportune time to **choose**, to either hang the rules or no, it's now.  
'Now' because here **he** is, standing in her living room with his eyes very nearly pooling all his honest feelings into hers; and here **she** is, wanting him to do so.  
And still, he-...can't quite bring himself to make the choice. Now more than ever.  
__  
Seconds tick by. And then those seconds stretch into forever and Ellie's smile fades and fades and her eyes begin to shadow with an understanding that looks just a little bit like disappointment, too.  
__It hurts him in the most unexpected way and Banner can't help but feel ashamed, for perhaps the first time ever, of his tendency to run and hide._

_In the end, he doesn't even have to say the word 'no'. In fact, he doesn't even have to say anything at all._

_Ellie gives him his way out, as always._  
_He takes it._

_And Banner's never loathed himself more._

_"I'm...sorry. I thought that...Um..." Ellie stammers._

_She falls a step back and, too late, Banner tries to speak._  
_But how can he explain? What can he say?_  
_"I..."_  
_Only the same pathetic word falls from his lips over and over again, like a broken record on repeat._

_And eventually, even Simza runs out of hope._  
_She swallows the lump in her throat and just for now, oh, she can't bear to look at his face._  
_"...We should get to sleep." she murmurs, cutting him off._

_Banner sighs quietly._  
_"...Yeah. We should..."_

_That night, as Banner lays his head down, he listens very carefully._  
_But Simza doesn't even cry._

_No..._  
_Instead, she lies awake for hours on end, her blanket pulled up completely over her head, and only one question echoing over and over again in her thoughts, just like his last word, his "I..."._

_And the question is 'What now?'._

_'What now, what now, what now?...'_

* * *

Stark frowns as he peers at the doctor.  
Then at Simza.  
Then back at the doctor.  
The two lost in their own thoughts, their own memories, suddenly forgetting that he is even in the room.

He grins.  
"Right. Well, i've gotta see Cap about something. So..."

That breaks Simza from her reverie.  
"Don't antagonize him, Stark." she sighs.  
"Wouldn't dream of it."  
"I'm being serious. If you keep provoking him, one day he's gonna-"  
The door shuts.

And after Stark leaves, the air in the room is heavy with silence again.

As Simza sneaks glances every once in awhile, she wonders if he's remembering. If he's remembering her. And she also wonders whether or not those memories are fond ones...

And as Banner glances back, he can't help but wonder why he's here. Caught back up in this mess, a mess in which he will likely only hurt her more.

"Ellie, I..." he murmurs before he can stop himself.

Simza's breathing stops.  
Her eyes flicker down to her cup of coffee, then to him.

_Does he know?...  
Does he know?  
Does he know?  
_

He can see the gears turning in her mind.  
The rapid rising and falling of her chest.

Simza is still afraid...There's no denying that.  
But in the wake of this, she makes a decision.  
And that decision is this: if he asks...if he wants to know, she'll tell him...  
The truth.

He only needs to ask.

"I'm...sorry, who?" she whispers hoarsely.

The question hangs in the air for just another breatheless second.

But then, the doctor shakes his head.

"...It's nothing." he answers. "Just a name."

* * *

_So sorry about this chapter ya'll..._


	9. The Things That Help To Ease The Doubt

Hey there, everyone!  
...Okay, before you say anything, yes...I know...  
It's been one heck of a longggg ass time. I'm sorry!  
Between working overtime without any days off and all the other shite going on in my life, I haven't had a whole lot of time to write. I've still been trying here and there whenever I can though! I'm so, so sorry that this is the result...I'm practically hyperventilating at the thought of even posting this train wreck...

This chapter is a hot, cheesy mess, but if you let me know, i'll re-work it as best I can, okay? Thank you so, so much!  
And again, i'm so sorry! I'll re-edit this after I get some sleep, I just wanted to let you all know that i'm still alive!

* * *

_When Banner first wakes on **day 20**, he smells pancakes. And freshly-brewed coffee._

_And he is still so dazed and groggy from his troubled sleep that he can't remember anything about the previous night until he gets to the dining area and is greeted by a figure completely obscured by an open newspaper._

_It's Ellie, of course._

_Banner stops in his tracks. And, as always, he lingers there for an uncertain moment._

_She hasn't noticed him.  
Yet.  
_  
_He could go back to bed...  
Help her save face, play asleep, avoid an awkward confrontation and having to fumble through a hopelessly uncomfortable apology.  
_  
_But no...that feels somehow cruel and wrong.  
_

_And yet, at the same time, he can't exactly face her either, so he just stands there and wrings his hands nervously as he tries to decide what to do (and fast, too). But suddenly-_

_"God. Can you believe this shit?" _

_Banner jumps._

_And there is a light rustling noise as the newspaper comes down, just a tick.  
At the sight of half her face peeping over the top, Banner's heart leaps into his throat.  
Still, he fights through it._

_"Uh...Sorry? Can I believe what shit?..." he manages._

_"Look. Here." Ellie says._

_And then she lays the newspaper down on the table completely and nods at the headline.  
__He takes a hesitant glance._

_'WHO IS THE BEAST? RAGING MONSTER RUNS RAMPANT IN UPPER EAST NEIGHBORHOOD'__  
_

_Banner's heart stops cold._

_And his palms clam up and he can already feel a cold chill break through his spine as his breathing grows quick and shallow and his blood pounds relentlessly against the too-tight confines of his head._

_What can he do? What **should** he do?_  
_His thoughts are a collection of fleeting half-sentences until just one strain of common sense pierces through the confusion at last:_

_Calm._  
_He **has** to stay calm._

_It's oh-so-hard to do that though..._  
_Because here he is: faced with the one thing he'd never wanted for anyone, least of all **her**, to see, and his eyes flicker back and forth across the bold letters typed across the page over and over again as he struggles for words._  
_His heart beats loud and dreadful in his chest._

_Does she know?_  
_Does she know? Does she know? Does she know?..._

_On the one hand, it seems impossible._  
_What reason could anyone have to link that **thing** to **him**?_

_But then again, Banner thinks, what if there's something that** he's** been missing all this time that she has not? Some hint, some small clue- one that undoubtedly ties him and the beast together? It's a long shot. He knows that, but...he's terrified._

_Banner takes a slow breath to steady himself._

_First things first: find out how much she **actually **knows._

_"Ellie, I...Uh..." he starts._

_But all his words die on his tongue when his eyes finally settle on her in full._

_Because she's..._  
_in nothing but a towel._

_Banner swallows. Hard._

_And he knows he has much more important things to worry about than this at the present moment, but still, given the events of the previous night, he can hardly stand to believe she'd ever be so nonchalant about facing him this morning- let alone, damp and nearly naked._

_"Ellie?...Why...Uh...Why are you...?" he begins to stammer, but he trails off as she shifts in her seat and the fluffy towel wrapped around her body (particularly around the swell of her chest) threatens to loosen with her movement._

_He clears his throat and blinks away._

_She continues on, as if nothing's amiss.  
_

_"Three murders." Ellie says. "**Three** murders in the past week, two robberies, one sexual assault, and no stories on any of that? No stories on any of the people who, you know, kill cause they **like** it? Instead, we get a full page on some creature who, for all we know, didn't even know what it was doing. Unbelievable." She shakes her head with a sigh. __Then, suddenly, and with no explanation, "You want blueberry or strawberry?"__  
_

_The sudden question throws him off._

_"Er- sorry?" _

_"Syrup, Buck." Ellie explains, as if the answer is obvious._

_He doesn't say anything for awhile._  
_So far, she doesn't seem to know very much...  
And then there's the fact that she isn't behaving with any glaring hostility even after being unceremoniously rejected._

_Without even knowing it, he takes a step towards her. _

_"Oh...Uh. Blueberry, I guess...Thanks..." _

_She nods. Then, reaches for a plastic jug next to a bright orange glass of juice. She drizzles a generous helping over a steaming plate of hot cakes before popping the top shut, and licking at some spilled syrup on her thumb._

_Ellie waits for him to sit, but he doesn't._

_"...Buck?...You gonna eat standing up or what?" she laughs._

_Still scratching his head over her composure, he slowly takes a seat._

_"Thanks..." he says again as she pushes his plate towards him.  
__She smiles for a second.  
"You're welcome."_

_"So. The story." Ellie continues, picking up the paper again. "What's your take on it?"_

_Banner swallows a hard lump in his throat. Then, he lifts his fork and takes a bite of the still-warm, fluffy pancakes to stall for time._

_They're good._  
_Sweet and soft and melt-in-your-mouth...  
_  
_He chews, steeling himself for the upcoming evasive battle of question vs answers. Then, shrugs. _

_"I don't know. I guess, uh...They're right to report it. If there's a monster on the loose and it's gonna hurt people, it's gotta be...dealt with..." he answers._

_Ellie's face scrunches up as she thinks that through._  
_"Well...But what if it's not a monster, Buck-"_

_"It is."_

_Ellie blinks at his curt answer and Banner struggles against the urge to shrink in his chair as Ellie's eyes wander over him for what feels like an eternity._

_But then, she just shakes her head._  
_"Nope. Sorry, Starch. I don't believe you. Here, you see this?" she says, flipping to the next page._

_And oh, God...  
There's a picture._  
_A flattering close-up, in fact, of a familiar green face contorted into a hideous frown splashed across the entire bottom half of the paper._

_Banner's grip on his fork tightens as he waits for her to speak and his uneasy eyes lock on hers expecting disgust, expecting fear, expecting hate- expecting anything but this:_

_"That look right there," Ellie says to him evenly. "it's not sadism, it's not happiness, it's not cruelty. It's anger."  
Then, she shakes her head as if that isn't exactly right. "No, it's more than anger even, it's...hate. But only for itself. And that," she continues. "doesn't make this thing, whatever it is, a monster to me."_

_Something in Banner's chest aches longingly at the words, but in the end, reality is a harsh mistress and he __can only smile at her sadly._

_"...That's a nice sentiment, Ellie. But that kind of thinking could get you killed one of these days, you know..." he murmurs.  
_

_A corner of her lips quirk upward. _  
_"But maybe it won't."_

_Bruce sighs at that.  
Then breaks off into a floored chuckle instead because, as frustrating as her stubborn sense of boundless optimism can be, somehow, over the past month, it's become just one of the countless number of things about Ellie Mills that he so dreads the thought of having to live without and h__is breath slows into an odd kind of calm as she rests her eyes on his; the pale of her skin, the dark of her hair, the pink of her lips all catching the light just right in the morning that streams in through the wide, wide windows; their single glimpse to the busy, silent world somewhere far below them._

_It hits him then.  
This- her and him, and him and her, it's become so familiar a sight._

_Familiar..._

_He never thought he'd find that again..._

_But all too soon, Ellie turns her gaze, suddenly realizing the exact way in which she's been looking at him.  
(As if...As if she **likes** him. Which she does. Which he doesn't.)  
_  
_Her cheeks flush at the reminder and try as she might, s__he knows she can't keep up her unaffected pretense any longer._

_"Look, Buck..." she starts. "About...About last night-"_

_Banner squirms._  
_"Oh, uh...Yeah?"_

_Ellie takes a slow, deep breath.  
Then, lets out all out on a huff and decides she'd better just get it over with._

_"Here's the thing: I would apologize, but...I don't want to." she says with an embarrassed laugh. "Because that's like saying I regret you knowing that I...uh...that I..." Ellie pauses and her cheeks are a bright shade of pink before she braces herself and says with decisiveness, "That I like you. And that's not true. But, um, I do want us to...keep being friends...If that's okay?.."_

_As she sits across from him, wanting him there despite all he's done to her, Banner know that he really should be feeling better about this._

_It's his wish come true, after all, and s__he may be hurting now, but he's protecting her and isn't that what he's wanted all along?...  
__And so, Banner tries to mean it, but the smile he gives her feels somehow horrible and false._

_"Yeah...Friends. I can do that." he says at last._

_If she notices the way his dark eyes linger painfully on her, she doesn't mention it. She doesn't make her usual light-hearted joke either, and she doesn't rest her hand on his in a too-loving gesture that is both wrong and right at the exact same time.  
_  
_(And Banner is faced with the sudden realization that this is what it really means for him to win. This is what it really means to lose her.)_

_"Okay. Well...Good." __Ellie says with a smile. She nods a few times, then fidgets in the uncomfortable silence that follows the end of their conversation._

_Banner fidgets, too._

_"Alright. Uh...So i'm gonna get ready now and then i've gotta go." Ellie says. "Don't want to be late. You know."_

_She gets up from the table to leave him then, and at that, w__ith a sudden desperation, he calls out, __"Wait!..."_

_She stops mid-step, one hand clutching the towel around her body, and blinks at him.  
"Yes?"_

_"Uh..."_

_Say **something**. Say **anything** Banner, the doctor thinks to himself._  
_A 'thank you', an 'i'm sorry', a 'this is all my fault'-..._  
_Just don't say nothing._

_"Uh..." Bruce says out loud again. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches another glimpse of that photo, **his **photo, and he loses all his nerve.  
He sighs and just runs a hand over his weary face._  
_"...No, it's...it's nothing. I just...was wondering...Are you going somewhere today, Ellie?" he finishes lamely._

_Her face shows surprise at first. But then, her cheeks are pink again and, just a little too late, Banner realizes why._

_(It's because they talked about this last night.)_

_"...The party, remember?" she mumbles with a sheepish laugh.  
_

_But as she continues on her way, she lets out a humiliated sigh.  
It's a quiet one. Not meant for him to hear, obviously, but that is exactly the thing that makes Banner realize once and for all._

_He has to make a choice._  
_A real one, this time._  
_Run, or stay: he has two options, but now he has to pick just one because falling back and forth between one and the other like this, it's hurt both Ellie and himself for far too long._

_From the bathroom, the first warbling notes of some off-key song that Ellie is singing echoes out all the way to the kitchen, and as Banner's eyes fall once again on the image of the ugly green beast that he is, he finally decides._

_It's the hardest choice he's ever had to make.  
But he can only hope, he can only **pray**, to whatever lost sense of God that a younger Bruce Banner may once have believed in, that it'll all have been for the better in the end._

_And so, a half hour later, when Ellie steps out of the bathroom, Bruce Banner, Buck Starch, the doctor, is gone._

_She knew it was coming._  
_She expected it from the very start._

_But even still, Ellie Mills can't stop the dead pang of wretched sadness that hits her as she blinks around in the sunlight and is met only with the sight of an empty, empty room._

_She turns her eyes down to the floor, clenches her fist into a tight ball._  
_"He isn't gone for good, Simza..." she tells herself._

_And after taking one long, deep breath, as she calmly steps into her heels and smooths down the hem of her party dress and exits the apartment, she wishes she could believe it._

* * *

"So am I the only one wondering why Fury called all of us in?"

Nobody is really listening to Stark when he asks.

The sun has long since set now, and after a long, grueling day of work and a quick dinner, the happy little group is spending some very precious downtime in the recreation lounge of the Helicarrier, and they're all much too busy trying to cram as much relaxation in a few short hours as possible to look up from their respective activities and pay him any attention.

Romanoff and the Captain are hovering over the pool table off to the side, the spy scanning over the current set-up of the game with a frighteningly scrutinizing eye as she takes her turn. The doctor is resting on one of the sleek black sofas near the bookshelf instead, sipping a red wine every now and again, and straining to make small talk with Thor over the strange, repetitive techno music playing over the sound system.

Simza...Well, Simza is currently seated at the bar alone, nursing some mysterious brew of fizzing..._**something**_; her own creation, of course.  
(She'd offered some to the others, but they'd all very politely turned her down after trying to mask a not-so-subtle expression of terror after catching a glimpse of the swirling glass of coral, orange, and yellow.)

As she stirs the beverage around, drowning out the monotonous blur of sounds, she absently wonders if maybe there isn't anything else she can do to make herself useful.

Because tonight? It's a much-needed break.  
For _**most **_of them.  
Not so much her, as she hasn't spent hours upon hours training or planning or researching like the others. No, all things considered, her job seems almost embarrassingly simple, actually. Especially seeing as how Banner has never even once come close to turning in the time that she's spent hanging around him, and this- it surprises her to think that she _**wants**_ to do more. Even although it is mostly just SHIELD whom she would be helping.

"No one?" Stark says, interrupting her thoughts. "You're all just gonna ignore me? Alright. Fine."

Simza gives him a side-long glance from her seat. She's so close by that she can't exactly pretend not to notice him, after all.  
"I heard you Stark." she sighs.

He brightens, tapping his fingers against the counter of the bar sporadically.  
"Okay. So, grace me with an answer here, if you will. What exactly do you think..."

From across the room, Banner shifts his glass from one hand to the other as he watches the two of them talk.

He doesn't intend to _**stare**_.  
Really, he doesn't.  
But they're in his line of view so he can't help it if his gaze just happens to fall every so often on the back of Simza Sterling's head; Simza, who is currently perched on a tall metal stool as she converses with one Tony Stark, who is leaning against the counter, very, very close, and explaining something rather seriously.

"...and then Jane and I decided to run. Not the most heroic option, perhaps, but we figured, better that than face the wrath of her sister-" Thor says. He turns to Banner for a response then, but when he looks up from his beer and sees where Banner's attention is focused, he breaks off into a chuckle instead.

At the sound of it, the doctor's attention snaps back.

"Uh...Sorry, what?..." Banner mumbles self-consciously. "What were you saying? I, uh...spaced out there. I'm sorry."

Thor just smiles knowingly in return.  
"You and Agent Sterling. There's something there, isn't there?"

Banner's mouth opens and shuts once before he swallows a dry lump in his throat and says, "No. We, uh, just met, actually."

"But you're on good terms."

"I guess you could say that, but really, she's just here to make sure I don't lose control and turn into a-...turn into..._**him**_, so it's more like i'm her job, really..."

Thor lets out another good-natured laugh and Banner tries to smile along, hoping the blond man won't press the matter further.

"It may be true that I am not yet familiar with human customs, doctor." he says. When he continues, there's a smirk playing around on his features, "But I hardly think business matters involve exchanging secretive glances at the table all throughout supper."

"Oh...Uh..." Banner stammers.

By the time he finally thinks up a response, it is too late and he knows that there is no use in pretending any longer.  
(And besides even that, there's...still a small part of him searching, and it's always _**been**_ searching, he suspects, for some kind of ending, some kind of closure with both Ellie and Simza and everything else that had happened between them.)

He lets out a sigh.

"...There wasn't. Anything." Bruce says honestly. "But...there could have been, once."

Thor frowns.  
"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wasn't there anything there before? And why couldn't there be again? Why only 'once'? Why not now?"

Banner's brow quirks upward in surprise.  
First Stark, now Thor...

For a moment, he starts to wonder if anyone except himself has even bothered to do the homework, to read the files on him which proclaim, in no subtle or unclear way: 'THREAT LEVEL: 10. DO NOT ENGAGE. DEFENSIVE FIRE ONLY.' in bolded red letters.  
Then he decides it probably wouldn't matter anyway, and it was likely a mistake to bring this up in the first place.

"...It's a long story." Bruce finally says, effectively cutting the conversation short.

Thor laughs, a deep rumbling laugh.  
"Alright. Keep your secrets, if you wish." he says, but something in his face tells Banner that the man has been able to glean far more from Banner's words than his innocent expression suggests.

Banner manages an awkward smile in return and hopes he is wrong.

But then, he makes out the mumbled words:  
"...Insanity...using...same method repeatedly...yet expecting a different result..."

"Come again?"

The blond man's eyes flicker over in Banner's direction and he smiles innocently.  
"It was nothing, doctor. Just like to hear myself speak."

Banner lets out a heavy sigh at the roundabout act.  
"Look...I-...'The other guy'...He nearly killed her. So keeping my distance? I'd say that's more sane than _**in**_sane, wouldn't you?"

"You could say the same of just about any other human here. And yet both the tin man and I continue to put our loved ones in danger. So tell me, is it more likely that both I and the Iron Man are driven by insanity? Or just you, doctor?"

Banner eyes flicker meaningfully over to Tony then, who is currently stroking his stache exaggeratedly and being punched in the arm by Simza.

Thor sobers when he follows his line of sight.  
"Er...Don't answer that." he says quickly.

Banner laughs good-heartedly in response at first, but then he simply trails off into a sigh for the second time that night.  
"I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but i've already been through all of this with Stark, and between now and then, i've figured out exactly what's different about all of you and me." he says. Banner leans forward in his seat and says, very precisely, "I can't control it. I slip up once and that's a good twenty people injured or dead, and you know, i've spent the past six years of my life punishing myself because I thought I killed her, too...I can't have what you have, what any of you have. Try to convince me we're the same. We're not."

For a long moment then, Thor remains silent.  
Then, he merely shakes his head of blonde hair.

"The only difference between the rest of us and you, doctor, is faith." he says sadly.

Banner frowns.  
"...I'm...sorry?"

"It isn't only up to you to decide what's safe for her and what isn't." Thor says. "Agent Sterling is a capable woman and is more than able to make her own decisions and deal with the consequences." And here Thor graces him with a fleeting smile. "That means that all that's left is for you to believe in that yourself."

And with that, Thor gives the doctor a meaningful look and a hard clap on the shoulder, and strides off to the bar for another beer.

Banner watches him go.

"I mean, come on, tell me you don't think there's something off about all this." Stark is saying when Thor arrives.

Simza shrugs.  
"I don't know, why are you so curious all of a sudden?"

"Well, Agent Simza Sterling," Stark says primly. "i'm so glad you asked. See, yesterday, I was talking to Fury and I learned some rather interesting facts about you."

Simza raises a brow at him.  
"Oh? And what is it that you've learned?" she asks warily.

"You're a Powered." he says triumphantly. "Now, i'm gonna be the bigger man here and admit that at first, I had my doubts. But then, I started to really think about your time at Stark Industries. You know, the incident with the coffee machine, the way some of our biggest clients could never remember you, the time I could have made an ass of myself in front of our all-important president but suddenly didn't feel like it anymore after you put your hand on my...arm, was it?- and I guess I really should say thanks for that by the way." Stark adds. "Anyway, it got me wondering what else Fury was hiding."

Simza's eyes narrow in suspicion.  
"Stark, what did you do?" she says.

"Nothing major. Nothing huge." he shrugs. "I mean, my decryption program is breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files as we speak, but-..."

And at that, Cap finally looks up from the pool table, where, up until now, he'd been pointedly trying to ignore the Iron Man with gritted teeth and a clenched fist.  
"You're doing what?" he says.

His face is creased into a deep, deep frown aimed chiefly at Stark, and suddenly, Simza correctly assumes that her earlier warning not to provoke the Captain has gone unheeded.

"Yeah. Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge." Stark says unapologetically. "In a few minutes, i'll know every dirty secret that SHIELD has ever tried to hide."

"Tony..." Simza sighs.

Captain stalks over from where he'd been standing and Romanoff trails after him, wearing a matching frown.  
"Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around." Rogers says.

"Uh. An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome."

Steve's jaw clenches in irritation at that, but when he speaks, his voice is low and controlled.  
"We have orders, we should follow them. There are more important things to worry about than-"

But all of a sudden, from somewhere in the room, there is a high-pitched beeping noise and the entire group swivels around in various directions in search of the source.  
Everybody except for Stark, that is.

He merely pulls a small data pad from the pocket of his jeans and glances down at it.

As his eyes flicker across the screen absorbing every bit of the juicy gossip, the gathering mob grows eerily silent.  
Because they're breaking the rules by letting him do this.  
They should be stopping him, they know that.  
But at the same time, they're curious too...

They are, each of them, all so used to being the pieces in SHIELD's big puzzle- _**just**_ the pieces, and nothing else; making the sure the colors stay bright and right and inside the lines whilst never getting to see the whole picture for themselves.  
But now they have a chance.

After a long moment of tense silence, Stark lets out a snort and his attention is laser-focused on just Romanoff.

"Phase 2..." he says out loud, holding the electronic device up for everyone else to see. "Weapons?"

The red-headed spy's forehead creases ever-so-slightly as suddenly, everybody turns on her with unmasked suspicion.

"...Fury gives the orders here. I just follow them." Romanoff answers evenly.

"Oh. Is that all?" says Tony sarcastically. "He tells you what to do and you listen. You would never, say, lie to all of us. You would never pretend to be some innocent bystander when you're not." he says, shooting her a look.

The spy says nothing to that, but Simza sees the way Romanoff presses her lips together in discomfort.

"Hey, you don't get to talk to her that way." she cuts in. "_**You've**_ built and sold weapons. You still do. You're no hero among men."

"Oh, I build them. I don't force the unwilling to help me do it. Look, Fury's plan is to use the tesseract on these weapons, Simza. That's why he wants us to get it back."

"...Okay...And?" Simza says, not quite understanding.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidd-...'And'?" Stark quotes in exasperation. "You mean to tell me you really don't see the problem?"

Simza and Steve only exchange uncomfortable glances of confusion.

"Uh...Is anyone else lost here?..." Thor mumbles.

"Come on, big guy." Stark sighs. "Put two and two together. Getting the tesseract means an almost-immeasurable amount of energy. That kind of energy means huge weapons. Huge weapons mean..." he trails off, waiting for someone to pick up on his train of thought at last.

Someone does.

"...He's preparing for a full-scale war..." Banner murmurs in realization.

The room is quiet for a few long minutes then, as the heavy implications of that settle over them slowly.

At first, they all seem small and afraid; afraid of how easily they'd nearly all been manipulated into changing the world for the worse without them even knowing it.  
But then that fear turns to anger instead, because anger is easier.

It begins with Banner.

"Did you know about this?..."  
His voice is quiet, but dark as he stares daggers at the spy across the room.

"...You wanna think about removing yourself from the premises, doctor?" Romanoff merely replies.

"I was in India, I was pretty well-removed." he snaps.

_From danger.  
__From harm.  
From her._

"No. You weren't. You just pretended you were while SHIELD was cleaning up all the messes that you left behind."

"Oh, well isn't that touching." Banner snorts. "Yeah, i'm really grateful that they left me alone all that time only to call me back to help them ruin the world!"

"No, I think the credit for that would go to people like Stark, actually." Rogers cuts in pointedly.

"Uh. Since when is this about me?"

"I'm sorry, isn't everything?"

"Hey, nobody had to force _**you **_to join up. You chose it, Cap. So things are a little dicey. You don't get to complain."

"You know, the fact that you have to be forced to save the world at all pretty much says everything." Rogers scoffs.

"And the fact that you decided to help SHIELD without knowing all the facts pretty much says everything." Stark shoots back.

"Yeah...You're a pretty smooth talker, aren't you? But take away the smart remarks and the suit of armor and what's left? You may not be a threat, Stark, but you'd damned well better stop acting like a hero."

"Ooh, you sound like you wanna go a few rounds, gramps. And you know, I totally would. Except i'm busy actually _**contributing **_here. And, um, i'm sorry. What is it that you're doing?"

"I thought humans were more evolved than this." Thor mutters under his breath.

Both Rogers and Stark whirl on him at once.  
"I'm pretty sure it isn't my brother who's killed 80 people in two days." Tony says, at the same exact time Rogers says, "And who's fault is it that they had to call us in in the first place?"

Thor frowns.  
"I-..." he begins.

"Hey! Back off, both of you." Romanoff hisses.

"Or what? You'll manipulate them into doing it anyway?" Banner demands.

"Don't turn it on her like that. You agreed to come along on your own, Bruce." Simza argues.

"Yeah. And i'm supposed to believe that you and Romanoff here would have let me walk free if I hadn't?"

There is a skeptic edge in his tone that leaves no room for argument, and the blatant disregard for everything _**good**_ that Simza has ever tried to be, it cuts razor sharp.  
But instead of withering away to lick at her wounds, this time, at his behavior, Sterling feels something inside her snap for good and the words come rushing forward before she can stop them.

"Yes! You are." she says. "You _**are**_ supposed to believe it, because we told you it was a choice and we meant it, and have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

"Have you ever given me reason _**to **_trust you?"

"I've tried! I've been trying since day one. You're the one who's always running-"

"Because i'm a monster! Because i've_** killed**_ before." shouts Banner. "If I turn, I could do it again and you aren't gonna be the one to stop me, Simza."

"That's always your excuse! And hey, it's a pretty good one, i'll give you that, but guess what, Bruce." Simza fumes, voice growing steadily louder. "There are people here who have done the same exact thing you have and we _**chose**_ to do it. We _**chose **_to kill, so if you're a monster then what the hell does that make us?!"

Teeth gritted and grinding, chests heaving with hot, angry breaths, eyes dark and faces set to cold, hard stone- for just a second, Banner and Simza forget all their pretenses. They forget that they are not alone, and they remain, face-to-face, fighting each other like children over wounds six years past, except, this time, neither of them are willing to back down.

It seems as if they never will.

But suddenly, the music playing over the speakers cuts into silence and a new voice interrupts them.

"What in the damn hell is going on in here?", none other than Nick Fury demands.

He stalks into the room, a deep frown etched into his face, the stereo remote clutched in his hand which he slams down onto the counter before facing the group.

Banner and Simza reluctantly turn their gazes.

"...Nothing." Simza mutters bitterly.

"Oh, really." Fury says. "Then explain to me why Romanoff, Thor, and Rogers over there look like they just walked in on their best friend's parents arguing, and Stark looks like his favorite soap opera just came on TV."

At that, Simza finally spares them a glance and when she sees the way their eyes are all aimed at the floor and she hears the way they clear their throats uncomfortably, she's hit with a sudden sense of guilt.  
Guilt towards Banner, too, despite it all.

She lets outs a sigh.

"Your secret is out, Fury." she says. "We know why you want us to get the tesseract and let's just say, not everyone's happy with what you plan on doing with it."

For just a moment, the director's good eye seems to widen, but he recomposes himself so quickly that Simza just almost passes his surprise off as a hallucination.  
He draws a slow breath then.

"So." he says. "That's what this is all about."

"You're damned right it is." Banner says, refocusing his anger. "I wanna know why SHIELD is building weapons of mass destruction."

"Because of him." Nick announces.

Everybody looks in the direction in which he is pointing and is surprised to find...

"Wh-...Me?" says Thor.

"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet." the beefy man insists.

"But you're not the only people out there, are you?" Fury says. "And you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled."

"Like you controlled the cube?" Rogers snarks.  
"In what world is making bigger weapons not an invitation for a higher form of war?" Stark scoffs.  
"Do you always treat your champions with such mistrust?" accuses Thor.

"I'm sorry, did _**we**_ come to _**your**_ planet and blow stuff up?" Fury retorts.

"That was an unintentional-"  
"You can't just say that it-"  
"You speak of control and yet-"  
"You're talking out of your ass-"  
"Are you all really that naive-"  
Everyone argues at once.

And Fury makes to put an end to all of that nonsense with enough steel and venom in his tone to match everyone in the room when Romanoff holds him back.

"It's no use. They won't understand, Fury..." she warns him quietly.

"Won't understand?" and "Are you serious?" the others begin again.

But at the interruption, Romanoff merely glances back over her shoulder and uses her sharp green eyes to stare down the pathetic form of each of the supposed-heroes in turn until they are silent.  
When they are, she continues, still watching them.

"They're all too busy trying to live their own lives. They don't know the consequences like the people who have to clean up after them do. If they did, we wouldn't exist to begin with, would we?..."

Of course, that isn't entirely true.

Simza, in fact, does know the consequences.

But even still, she finds herself taken back at the words with the rest of the group.  
Because she, so much like the others, can't deny the truth of them.

How many Powered people had _**she **_had to clean up after, back in the day?  
How many citizens had she seen caught in the crossfire, how many deaths had she had to cover up, how many lies had she had to tell?...

Only, now, Simza supposes, someone, somewhere in the background is being forced to do all of those things for _**her**_.  
Her work hasn't exactly left her clean and pristine, after all...

At the center of the group, Fury sighs at everyone's suddenly self-contemplative faces.  
"...You're right." he says to Romanoff.

So the man bites back his frustration, squares his shoulders, and to the others: "Once the tesseract is located, I will be more than willing to discuss the information you_** illegally**_ obtained," Fury says calmly, although he casts a sharp glance in Stark's direction. "but until then, we have one priority, team. Because whether you believe it or not, there are much, much bigger and badder things out there to fight than any of you. If it makes you angry that i'm not answering any more of your questions, good. Maybe you can channel some of that blame towards Loki, the only one one this damned ship who seems like he wants to be here."

And with that, the director turns on the heel of his heavy shoe, and is gone.

* * *

_"It was in the paper, Fury. The **paper**! Whatever measures you used to cover up the mess this time, they failed, and you know, you've been doing that more often lately. I'm not sure that's a trend anyone will like."_

_"I'll take care of it, Agent. How is the doctor reacting to the news?"_

_"He's...He's doing fine."_

_"Any signs of instability?"_

_"None. I was able to soften the blow of the news, at least, by-...using a few distractions."  
__  
"Good. Get to that party, Sterling. We'll talk more about this later, but if the doctor shows any signs of going back into hiding, you are to contact me immediately. Do you understand?"_

_"...I..."_

_"Agent?"_

"..."

_"...Agent, is there something you need to report?"_

_"...No...No, it's...It's nothing. Everything's fine..."_

* * *

That night, nobody sleeps well.  
Simza, however, sleeps worse than the others. In fact, she doesn't find herself able to lie still and go to sleep at all, and so she throws off the blankets, slips on her shoes, and goes wandering the corridors.

There's a lot to think about, as she trudges aimlessly.  
But her mind is numb, and there are doubts- oh, there are doubts. Old ones and now, brand new ones, all infecting her peace of mind, making her wonder: Is she a villain now, too?

Because the facts are these:  
She'd left many a rotten agent behind in the dust when she'd severed ties with SHIELD.  
But now she is realizing that she'd left many a good agent like Romanoff neck-deep in trouble, too, and instead of becoming the hero she had set out to be, she'd become an info broker.  
A madwoman, caught up in her own problems, scrambling for any pathetic, dirty job that might bring her some semblance of information that might undo what damage SHIELD had done to her mother's not-right memories.

And somewhere along the way, she'd begun collapsing under the weight of her own decisions.

She's still collapsing, she thinks.  
Especially since she'd thought she had come to terms with what she'd become, only to make it this far and realize that she had not done that at all.

And then there is the matter of Bruce Banner to consider...

Simza lets out a sigh as she passes by the observation room, when, out of the corner of her eye, she sees a sight so unusual, it throws her from her reverie.

It is Nick Fury, sitting on the top steps.  
His broad shoulders hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his figure dejected as he stares down at his hands.

For a moment, Simza considers leaving the man to his thoughts and moving on. But then she wonders if maybe he is collapsing too, and so, with a resolved sigh, she pushes the door open and steps inside, alerting the man to her presence.

"Not right now, Coulson." says Fury, without even turning around.

Simza stops. Then presses on.

"It's your prodigal son, actually." she quips dryly. "Well, daughter, I guess."

At that, Fury turns his head and this time, he lets the surprise linger on his features for a few moments before he turns his attention forward again.  
"I seem to recall telling you i'd only answer questions after the cube was located." Fury answers tightly.

She plops herself down on the steps beside him and she feels him tense.

"I'm not here to yell at you for once, so relax." Simza sighs.

"Then why are you here?" the man questions.

She just shrugs.  
"For the view, I guess..."

Fury is still suspicious, but eventually, he lets the matter go and it is silent for a long moment as they just sit there in the dark and watch the night sky pass, the sounds of their quiet breathing lost in the empty space of the enormous room.

Simza does not expect it when Fury speaks.  
She expects it even less when he says:

"...'Did I do the right thing?'...When you're young and in-command, when there are lives that need saving, you don't have the freedom to think about those types of questions." Fury murmurs. "So the thoughts come late. Too late. You're not prepared when it comes time to face a decision you made and you know it's one you made wrong..."

His eyes are faraway, but she knows what it is he's talking about: the Avengers. The weapons. Everything.

"Why, Fury. Do I hear the barest traces of regret in your tone? How unlike you." Simza says jokingly, but her eyes are serious.

Fury shoots her an unamused look in return.  
"I'm not completely without any semblance of human emotion, agent."

She raises a brow at that, but makes a point of giving no other response and the man beside her lets out a quiet sigh.

"I never did tell you i'm sorry, though. Did I?" Fury relents.

"...No." Simza murmurs shortly.

But she suppresses the urge to fidget because she thinks she knows where this is going, but she can't be sure.  
Either way, she knows she isn't ready.

She's been wronged.  
That much is true.  
But even then, the only thing she'd wanted was to forget it and leave it all behind.  
She'd never, once in her life, even considered _**forgiveness**_.  
She'd never once even considered coming back.

But these days, she is...  
And she's only just realizing that now.

"Well then, i'm sorry, agent..." says Fury wearily. "For making promises I knew I wouldn't be able to keep."

Simza takes a shaky breath.  
Curls and uncurls her fingers, stares down at her hands, just to have something to do.  
But there's no avoiding this. It's something she has to face. No matter how afraid she may feel of the prospect of both forgiving him, and not.

"...Why didn't you say it back then?" she asks.  
She fights to keep her voice even.

"I knew it wouldn't be enough." comes the answer.

"It would have been better than nothing."

"An 'i'm sorry' wasn't going to change the fact that you'd already stopped trusting me, agent."

"It might have made you seem like less of a prick though..."

Fury's mouth sets in a thin line at that and despite herself, Simza thinks she's said too much in her panicked state. But after a long moment, the director only sighs once again.

"Then i'm sorry for that too...There is nothing I have the power to take back, Sterling. And I know words are cheap. But right now, i'm afraid this is the best I can do."

"...And what if it's still not enough? What then?" Simza dares to ask.

Fury's brow creases in disappointment at that, just a little. Then, he shuts his tired eyes instead and shakes his head.  
"Then nothing, agent..." he answers. "...Then you do your job, and I do mine. And we keep doing that. And we get through this fight. And I keep hoping you make it out alive. And maybe...just maybe...you do the same for me..."

Before she even knows what she's doing, Simza sniffles and she finds herself wiping at her damp cheeks.

Damp?...

_Oh, damn it all. _

She's _**crying **_now and the thing is, she doesn't even know why.

No...

No, that's a lie.  
She does know...

It's because, for only the second time in nearly 6 years (after Romanoff), someone is showing her, in some small way, that they genuinely...care. That they've _**always**_ cared.

It's a welcome change from moving through the world invisible.  
It's a welcome change from being rejected by 'Buck Starch' and from drifting in an out of people's memories and from shooting and running and being shot at, tirelessly, endlessly, night after night.

And so, as angry as she still is, as loathe as she is to the idea of letting that anger go, Simza knows she has already started to do it.

At the sound of the uneven hitches of breath, Fury cracks his good eye open and his face forms into a look of discomfort, first. But then, he reads her expression, and, understanding what exactly the sniffles mean, he softens.

"It's been good to have you back, Sterling." he says, finally. "And I really am sorry."

"...Are you sorry enough to forgive us for hacking all of SHIELD's files?" Simza jokes in return, embarrassed by her own unprofessional display.

Fury's eyes widen into an angry frown at the reminder.

And Simza snickers as she wipes away the last of her tears.

"...You are making it very difficult to apologize, you know." the director deadpans.

"I know." she says. "I'm kind of an asshole that way."

But she's still laughing to herself in her old, unabashed way. And that is how Fury decides to hold on to the idea that maybe, all his hopes aren't hung on them, the Avengers, for nothing.  
It's still just the beginning afterall.

* * *

_'What the hell does that make us?!'_

Banner doesn't quite know the answer to that.  
He's pondered it all damned night and the only answer that comes to him isn't even an answer at all, it's just an image: of the way Simza Sterling had looked when she'd asked him that question to begin with.

Hurt? He'd seen her hurt.  
He'd seen her happy.  
And he'd seen her sad and tired and hungry and sleepy and excited before, too.

But he'd never seen her angry.  
She'd seen _**him **_angry before, of course...

Because Ellie Mills is Simza Sterling, and she's always known what 'angry' on him looks like.  
(It looks like a hideous photograph printed across the bottom half of a newspaper. It looks like a news story playing across a convenience store TV. It looks green. Green and huge and hideous.)

She knew the risks. She knew the dangers.  
And yet, she was always there.

And then, even when the worst had come to pass, and he had nearly killed her, here she is again.

And here _**he**_ is, too...

Making the very same mistakes.  
Pushing her away.  
Running.  
Hiding.

When the world is at risk and he may yet lose her a second time.

_Thor was right...  
_  
He laughs at the idea of receiving dating advice from a Norse god.  
Then, he throws off the sheets and goes to find her.

* * *

_Banner glances down at his watch.  
It's still relatively early._

_But time passes quickly when you hope it passes slowly, and he knows he has just a few short hours before he has to get to work anyway and he'd rather be prepared than have to make it all up on the spot._

_Because he's made his decision._

_And he isn't running._

_Or rather, he **has **been running, but, this time, it's only just downstairs to browse the nearby shops because when he talks to Ellie, for real, he wants to make up for every way he's done her wrong before._  
_He wants to make her happy._

_Unfortunately, there's nothing much of interest around, and the trinkets and baubles he **can **afford aren't much to look at._

_Banner had never been one for romantic gestures in the past anyway and searching for these things now- it just doesn't feel much like him..._

_He sighs and scratches his head for awhile as he stands in the middle of the busy street, lost._

_But then, he suddenly starts to grin because he knows exactly what Ellie'd say if she were there._

_Something like:_  
_'Don't get hung up on the **present**, Buck.'_  
_With a wink wink and a nudge nudge because 'present'. As in 'Now'. Also as in 'gift'._  
_What sage advice._

_He starts to chuckle._  
_Then, with a renewed sense of purpose, he rolls up his metaphorical sleeves and heads off again, when suddenly, from across the street, his eye catches on the perfect thing._

_It's simple._  
_It's understated._  
_It's just like him._

_He wonders if she'll like it._

_And he keeps wondering as blushes through a shop assistant's explanation of what a single lavender rose means._  
_(Enchantment. Love at first sight.)_

_And he keeps wondering again as he buys the flower anyway and heads back for home, dressed, quite coincidentally, in a purple shirt that day himself._

_He wonders all day long._

_But Banner doesn't ever get to find out the answer to his question, of course._  
_Because by the time he sees Ellie again, it is **Day 21**._

_And everything is already over._

* * *

...Hope you enjoyed!...  
I really have nothing to say for myself...  
I'm so sorry!


	10. The Reasons Why The Past Repeats

Hey, everybody!...  
*nervous laughter*  
Yeah, I know...I'm terrible and really late and I am really, really, so, so sorry that this update took so crazy long!  
I've been stuck in the absolute WORST writing rut in the history of ever and i'm just beginning to get out of it, to be honest. But, through weeks and weeks of crying literal sad angry tears, i've managed to piece this chapter together for you...I apologize if it's absolute shite! It's sorta boring, but the next one will be better! Still, i'm always willing to fix things if you bring it up (nicely, please)!  
I hope you enjoy!...Somehow...Jfc...

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving! I'll edit again after I wake up, ya'll. It's 5 am here so time for me to sleep...

* * *

_Simza doesn't know why or when it started._

_But sometime after she leaves her apartment, she finds herself thinking that the day suddenly feels...wrong.  
__Well, wrong**er**.  
Her day hadn't exactly started out stellar to begin with, what with her little spat with Fury and with Banner leaving her and all.  
__  
__But now, it's more than just that, even.  
It's something in the air, like she's stepped out her door into some parallel universe where up is down and left is right and nobody notices but her._

_The day's gone off._

_And something is brewing._  
_Something bad.  
__A clock may as well have started tick, tick, tick-ing down in her ear right then, just to make her even more certain of it._

_An ominous chill ripples up her spine as she crosses the busy streets towards her destination, and as soon as it hits, she knows- if she were smart, she'd stop.  
If she were smart, she'd trust her intuition; find out why she feels so bent-out-of-shape._

_If she were smart, she'd go the hell back home._

_But instead, she merely takes a slow breath to shake off the doubt and continues on, because that is all she knows how to do.  
That is all she's **ever** known how to do.  
Push on._

_Even if her heart is crushed to dust and black glass pieces are littering the ground behind her everywhere she walks._  
_Even if she's lost and empty and all alone and has no one to blame but her lies and her powers and everything else that makes her, **her**._  
_Even if, every once in awhile, she wants to quit this constantly getting mixed up in the chaotic, never-ending evil of the world (and of herself) and just stay_  
_Perfectly._  
_Still._  
_In good, for once..._

_'Even if', she continues on._

_And much too soon, here she is..._

_Standing before the entrance to a grand dance hall, ready to work at her mission of the day.  
__A mission that calls for the agent Simza Sterling, and not the woman._

_And so, dumping all of her feelings there in the doorway, she climbs the steps to the entrance, flashes her invitation at the suited doorman, and disappears into the building._

_The party, as far as parties go, is nothing special.  
It's fancy and packed full of well-to-do people, all hiding their ravenous lust for money and power underneath perfectly coifed hair and red lips and crisp suits.  
_

_The job itself is so easy, it's almost frightening._  
_No car chases or gun fights or bombs this time._  
_Instead, it's just dance a little, mingle, try to blend in, all the while taking down bits and pieces of vital info that will help to incriminate each and every person in the room._  
_She only runs into trouble once when an attendee, an old man well into his fiftes, recognizes her and nearly causes a panic, but she takes care of him quickly and silently with a mere touch of his arm._

_After that, it's smooth sailing for Simza Sterling as she works her way around the room, disarming people with little shows of simple-mindedness until they're all conversing over her with lazily coded sentences and thin 'What on Earth is a peasant like her even doing here?' smiles.  
Sometimes, it's difficult to pretend not to read the dripping condescension in their faces. But she grits her teeth and ignores it as best she can a__nd finally, just as she's thinking she'll scream if one more uppity snob curls their lip and speaks to her at a pace of a word a minute, it's time._

_The disappearing act._

_She breathes a sigh of relief. Stretches her tense shoulders in preparation and rolls her cricking neck side to side against the strain of her confining dress._

_Ready..._

_She murmurs the next part out loud, a soft whisper on her lips, so quiet it's lost in the sound of her breathing._

_"Go."  
_

_A short hour later, Simza Sterling is breezing right out the front door, a perfect stranger to the exclusive, ever-so-elegant world behind her; a perfect world that wouldn't miss her even if they could remember.__  
_

_Mission complete.  
Easy peasy._

_But just as she's_ _thinking 'job well done', she passes by a grand, gold-engraved grandfather clock settled on the marble stairs, and as she pauses to stare at herself reflected in the onyx face, she wonders why it is that she can still hear it, loud and eerie, in her head._

_Tick, tick, tick, tick..._

* * *

They meet in the hallway.

And when they do, they're both surprised.

Then, they're embarrassed.

Because it is so obvious to each of them that they have been looking for each other, but neither of them are socially well-adjusted enough to know quite how to handle this.

And so, for awhile, they just linger in the low lights, Banner rubbing the back of neck, unsure of what to do, Simza blinking and taking a breath as she studies him cautiously from a mere foot away.  
Finally, she speaks.

"...Hi." she whispers, so they don't wake Thor whose room they are standing just outside of.  
"I-uh...Hey." Banner replies.

It's quiet for another moment and Simza shifts her weight back and forth in the dark. Banner watches because even though he has so much to say, he doesn't know how to start and so, Simza takes over for him.  
The way she has a million times before.

"Bruce- er. Doctor." she corrects herself quickly. "I'm...sorry. For what I said. You know. Earlier. I didn't have the right. I mean, we- we hardly even know each other and with Fury and SHIELD and all of my, you know, stupid emotional baggage, i've just been on edge ever since I got here and maybe i've been taking it out on the wrong people but- and...well...-"  
She stops her rambling and glances up at him.  
"...I'm sorry..." she murmurs sheepishly.

For a moment, Banner can't reply.  
Because he's only really seeing it now and how on Earth had he done this to her?  
Brought her from Ellie Mills, who had unashamedly teased him and touched his face and told her she cared, down to Simza Sterling, who called him by his first name and then scrambled to cover it up, eyes scared and watching for any sign he might hate her for it.

It's too sad a change for him to bear. And so, Banner tries his hardest to relax the semi-permanent frown lines etched in his features into an expression that is far more willing, far more wanting, far more everything.  
For once.

"No, uh...I'm sorry, too." he says. A pause. Then, more quietly, "...And...you were right. About me."

Sterling reels back at that, as if she can't have heard correctly, and Banner doesn't know if he's more amused or guilt-ridden that she's so shocked. Nevertheless, he is resolved to continue- however haltingly the words may come.  
"..I'm not-...You see, I...I don't-..." he tries first.  
But nothing seems right and words aren't enough and Banner can only frown and continue to fumble with half-syllables until he breaks off with a frustrated sigh to collect his thoughts so he can only try and fail again.

Fortunately for him, Simza is as patient as she has always been.  
And so, while he is dragging a hand through his hair and trying to gather his thoughts together, she waits.

That gives him his edge. And finally, he takes a breath and-

"...You heard what 'the other guy' did to that girl 6 years ago, Simza. She died. Because of me." Banner says. "...It's not them back there I don't trust. It's not SHIELD, It's not Romanoff." And then there's a brief pause before he glances up at her just for a second before he looks down at the ground again and admits, more softly, "It's not...you..."

And at this, at the first tiny glimpse of simple truth he's ever really had the chance to show her, Simza's surprise softens into a look. _**That** _look. The one so gentle it kills him.  
"Yeah. I know..." she says.  
For a moment, it seems as if she'll reach out and lay her hand on his shoulder and make everything better- just like old times.  
Powered or not, part of him wants her to. But then...

She instantly blinks away; her hand clenching into a tight fist, a sudden feeling of doubt pricking at her insides.  
"I know," she says again. "and I get what you're saying and all, but...Bruce," she continues nervously. "maybe...maybe we're not so great either...What I do, they're not accidents, you know. I hurt people. I kill people. I...-" Her eyes flicker up at him, then quickly to the ground again. "-lie to people. I don't do good things..."

Immediately, Banner knows what she's so afraid of.

And so, just this once, he shakes his head more in defense of her than as a warning of himself.  
"You can control it. It's different." he promises.

"Is it?" she asks, but her eyes are doubtful.

He only nods.

"Better? Or worse?" she snorts.

It surprises him he's never truly considered that. And watching him frown and struggle through those thoughts, Simza stops pressing, suddenly afraid he will over-think himself back to square one and pull away again.  
And just when they were starting to get somewhere, too.

"Er, nevermind! Forget that. Sorry, i'm doing it again, aren't I?" she says quickly to distract him. "Sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, I mean..." Simza scratches her head timidly and tries to smile, forcing the serious air between them to dissipate at once in a somewhat clumsy attempt.

Banner can't help but chuckle.  
"I don't mind."

"Oh, come on. Yeah you do." she replies, with a somewhat self-conscious laugh. "You're just being too nice right now to say otherwise."  
Simza thinks about this for a moment. Then adds, with a grin and a touch more of that old playfulness, "Not that i'm complaining. It's why you're so easy to like, you know."

**_Like._**

Banner's heart skips a beat; an awkward, unpracticed motion happening again for the first time in years, and he has to take a moment before he recognizes what the feeling means in all it's rusty, wonderful familiarity.

She, however, only looks at him in concern as he hasn't responded to her quip at all. And to be honest, it's making her kind of nervous she's over-stepped some invisible boundary line again.

"Doctor?...Are you okay?" she asks carefully.

"What? Oh. Yeah. I...uh, don't know if i'm all that nice is all." he covers quickly. Then, he realizes he means it and continues with a wry smile, "...I shouldn't have yelled at you, Sterling. I'm sorry for that too. Just got caught up in the mood of the room, I guess..."

"We both did." she assures him. Then, "Stark sure dropped one hell of a bomb on us though, didn't he?"

He knows she's only rapid-firing some random topic to keep him from feeling too guilty.  
And in any other instance, Banner wouldn't even entertain the thought of accepting this undeserved kindness.  
But just this time, he figures, he'll try.  
And so, he softens, gives in to the good-feeling, and plays along.

"Yeah...He did." Banner answers with a laugh.  
And after a moment, she laughs too.  
It's strange, uncertain, and forced at first, more a harmony of mirthless coughs than anything. But slowly, they begin to feel each other out and when they realize the other is trying to be genuine underneath the shallow words, they relax and suddenly it becomes something real.

And just like that- with a shared amusement at their clumsy social skills, day's worth of strange tensions simmer down to nothing.

Not because the idea of weapons are funny, of course, but because just for that one moment, it feels almost like she never lied, and he never left, and they aren't here, exactly where they are, where everything's wrong and trouble is always mere moments away.

Simza trails off into a satisfied sigh and leans her head against the doorway, a small relieved smile crossing her face as she takes him in- 6 years older and 7 times as tired, but somehow, still just the same.

_I missed you._

The thought hits them both as suddenly and painfully as any bullet ever has, and the feeling creeps over them, seeps into their bones and swells in their chests until it's almost too much, and Banner has to take a deep breath to stop the words from spilling out before he has the chance to explain.  
Steeling himself, he balls his hands into fists in his pockets and peers his dark eyes down at her cautiously.

"Sterling, if you're not too tired...do you...want to join me in the lab? I've got some work I gotta take care of." he says. Then, as a sort of excuse, "But, uh, we wouldn't want me turning into...'the other guy' while you're away, would we?"

She nods, happy. Oblivious to the atomic bomb he's about to drop on her newfound sense of peace, and part of him feels guilty for it, and yet, another part of him knows that he needs it to happen.

He wants it to. So that, finally, finally, **_finally_**\- he will have the freedom to tell her, the one constant good in his life, the simple truth:

That despite all the lies, despite the deception from both her and him, the past and present dangers, the **_death_** lingering around them and everything they do, every word they say, every part of who they **_are_**,

he loves her...

He _**still**_ loves her.

Do with that knowledge whatever she may.

* * *

_Tick, tick, tick..._

The clock shows 3:32 am by the time they are settled in what's become their respective territories of the lab, (for him, the station just in the center of the room and for her, the desk in the far corner) each with something to drink in one hand and something made-up that they need to work on in the other.  
And they are, each of them, fully aware that it's just a few more precious hours that they have alone together.  
Because soon, the ship will slowly wake for the day and they'll have to deal with the bad blood between the other members of their happy little group again.

Even so, for awhile, the two only spend a considerable amount of minutes in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and musings over how to proceed from here.

Because the truth is, Simza only knows what to do when Banner runs away. She isn't quite as familiar with what to do when he starts seeking her out.  
She knows what she probably _**should**_ do, of course...

As it so happens, Banner finds himself worrying over the very same thing: the same, only different too, because it isn't quite a 'should' for him, it's a 'will'._  
_He only needs to work out the impossibly confounding problem of 'how'...

And so, even after Simza's decided to push the issue from her mind for now and started to ramble aimlessly of this and that out of habit, the doctor finds himself continually turning the issue over and over in his own mind until she addresses him directly.

"...Either way, maybe that's exactly why..._**I**_ need to be here. With other people like me, you know?"  
She glances at him meaningfully.

Despite his nerves, Banner stifles a chuckle at her attempt to be subtle.

Thinking on what he knows of her now, it's amazing that someone so...open and easy to read is an agent. Then again, maybe she just seems that way to him.

"Really. You'd just let all of it go. What happened between you and Fury, just like that?" he says.

She flashes him a wry smile then, sighs, and continues to play with the handle of her mug absently for awhile. When she speaks again, her voice is quiet.  
"No...But i'm tired of being angry, Banner..." she confesses. "Thing is, somewhere along the way, I guess I forgot that being one of the good guys means more than keeping my own hands clean. Maybe...Maybe I have to do the bad things, you know? So that someone better won't have to, and, I mean, sure, the higher-ups will still screw up once in awhile, but the best thing about being an Avenger is, when that happens, you can push back. Right?" she grins.

"'You'? Not...'we'?" Banner frowns.

Simza simply shrugs as she stares at the ceiling.  
"Yeah. Or, well, I don't know...I wasn't really part of the original plan. If Romanoff hadn't suggested me, I wouldn't even be here."

And that, the very idea of her being a mere afterthought, especially to herself, hurts him far more than he expects. (Even if he knows it's partly his fault.)  
Before Banner knows what's come over him, he's stopping again, looking right at her through silver-rimmed glasses, saying, "Simza?"

"Mm?" she replies unsuspectingly, through a huge mouthful of water.

"...I'm glad you are. Here, I mean."

Mid-swallow, with her cheeks ballooning out, she blinks in surprise first. Then, she chokes as she gulps down her drink but even through a hacking cough, she can't help but smile.  
"...Thanks..." she manages to croak in reply.

Once she's calmed down, she lowers her mug down to the table again, hiding a blush that she knows is ridiculous but can't stop from spreading anyway. And he nods in return, a tiny smile starting on his own face, before spinning back around in his chair and pushing himself down to a computer screen to type in some data.

After that, there's a heaven-sent lull in the conversation that he is hyper aware of. And the longer it stretches on, the more he feels as if it's now or never, and so Banner thinks to himself,_  
_  
_Well, here goes..._

His palms sweating, he quietly clears his throat and begins to say-  
"Simza, I-"

Only, he does so at the very exact moment that she chooses to say-  
"So how's all-"

They stop at the same time.

"Er..."  
"Go ahead."  
"Oh, you can go first."  
"No, no..."  
"It's alright..."  
"Simza..."

"Okay. Er. Well, I was just gonna say...So how's all this going, anyway?" Sterling says. She nods her head vaguely towards the bounty of machinery as she abandons her corner and chooses to lean over the counter beside him instead.

"Uh. Oh..." Banner breathes.  
(And it's only partly because he's relieved she's stalled this out for a little while longer. The other part may or may not have to do with the fact that she's so close he can practically feel the heat of her body. The body he'd once seen wrapped in a towel and nothing else.)  
He quickly tears his eyes away from her at the memory.  
"It's..." he nods. "It's going. Tony and I have the model locked. We're sweeping for the signal now. Once we get a hit, we'll have the location within a half mile radius."

Simza nods, impressed.  
"You do good with a few wires and dials, doctor."

He shrugs.  
"Science is something I can work with."

"As opposed to..." she prompts, tilting her head at him inquisitively.

"I don't know...People?" he snorts. "Everything."

She just grins mischievously as she rests her chin in her hand.  
"Oh, I don't know about that. I think Stark might be in love with you, doctor. And if you can get him to fall out of love with himself long enough to do that, well then...We should just call up the wedding planner already."

Banner chuckles.  
"Yeah, I don't know how 'in love' he is..." the doctor muses. "But he's...a decent guy. Hangs around enough, I guess. Kinda like some weird permanent glue..."

"Oh. Well, if you're gonna reject him, just remember to let him down easy." Simza advises jokingly. "Or, wonderful guy that he is, he'll hold it over you forever."

"Like he does with you?" Banner smiles.

"Yeah." she winces. "Exactly like that."

The two of them laugh at that for awhile, but after their amusement's died down and just as Banner is beginning to relax, Simza suddenly straightens.  
"Oh. That's right. You were saying something before. Sorry, what was it?"

Banner swallows, tense all over again.

And as uncertain as he feels, he means to tell her but-

"That- Uh- I don't remember." his mouth blurts instead, heart pounding in his chest.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he kicks himself inwardly for his cowardly instincts.

Because there. Now he's gone and done it.  
Ruined his chance again.

But,  
"...Yeah, you do." Simza only laughs. "I can see it written all over your face, Banner."

"...Can you?"

She nods.

But he doesn't continue and, sensing his uneasiness is about something bigger than her jokes now, Simza stops grinning and her face softens, and she continues, all kind eyes and genuine words,

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know." she murmurs. "Whatever it is, i'm here for you, Bruce."

That, he knows, has always been true.  
And so,

"...Alright." he agrees.

Banner talks.  
Simza listens.

And it's a strange and rare kind of real-life magic that has worked its way here:  
The right thing said at the right time.

Even if the right time, as it so happens, is just before the very, very wrong time, indeed.

* * *

_Tick, tick, tick..._

_Banner watches the clock relentlessly.  
There's a stack of books abandoned on the ground beside his feet and just in front, the TV is booming and zinging with gunshots and explosions from a re-run of some high-stakes action thriller from decades past._  
_Still, even despite all of the possible distractions, his thoughts always stray.  
__And with his thoughts, his eyes do, too._

_Together, they wander constantly in perfect time. First, across the newly-tidied apartment to the lavender rose sitting innocently on the table in an empty wine bottle (he couldn't find a pitcher or a vase). Then, towards the clock where he spends a few moments to count down the seconds anxiously. And then, back to the screen again, as his mind turns with constant questions._  
_Rose, clock, TV._

_Then, again. Rose, clock, TV._

_Tick, tick, tick, tick..._

_It continues forever.  
But when he finds himself jumping at what turns out to be the doorbell ringing on TV even though he knows full well Ellie doesn't even have a doorbell to begin with, he laughs at himself first. Then he clears his throat self-consciously, shifts around, and decides to give up all pretenses, shut off the TV, and just watch the clock._

_He'll find some peace and calm in the quiet, constant ticking, maybe, knowing that e__ach individual second is leading him closer and closer back to her.  
_

_But just then,  
Knock, knock!_

_Banner's heart stops. And every nerve in his body tenses as he turns and looks and as anxious as he is to see her, he still wonders for a second, why Ellie Mills might be knocking on the front door of her very own house.  
But then, his eyes land on the counter top and he nearly laughs._

_She forgot her key._  
_How very like her._

_And when he hears the light rummaging outside the door then, that alone is enough to confirm her identity._

_Hurriedly, he plucks the rose from its place, hides it neatly behind his back, then takes a breath, and swings the door open, determined to make the next few minutes count._  
_"Hey, you forget something, Ell-?" he starts with a smile._

_But i__t is not the prettied-up figure of Ellie Mills who greets him._

_Just the cold, black muzzle of a gun._

_There's a loaded click shortly followed by a dry chuckle then, and Banner's body finally remembers it has a soul long enough for his terrified eyes to look the source of the laugh until they land on..._

_"So good to finally meet you, Dr. Banner." an unfamiliar man says.  
"We've heard so much." another one adds._

_When two pairs of rough hands grab at him, Banner doesn't fight them.  
No...  
Instead, he fights with every wretched part of his being, the panic, the fear, the anger, pulsing stronger and hotter with each beat of his heart, in his blood, in his veins.  
In himself._

_And he hopes. He wishes._  
_He prays._  
_That this time, he can win._

* * *

When he finally says it, it's as if time slows.  
And the only things Simza can hear is the amplified sound of her own breathing, the echoing drum of her blood pumping, and from somewhere in the past, the familiar rhythm of that infernal countdown to disaster.

"I know, Simza."

_Tick, tick, tick._

Then, again. In slow motion.

_"I know...who...you...are..."_

_Tiiick...tiiick..._

An an extra heavy  
_...tiiiiiiiick..._

For a moment, Simza loses her mind.

But then,  
a sudden hand on her shoulder.  
Time snaps back into place.

Simza jumps, Banner's face is inches from hers, and the ticking is gone.

"Simza...Are...you alright?"

She...has no idea.  
...Is she?...

She blinks, shakes her head, and listens again.

_Tick, tick, tick._

Oh.  
No. Nope.

It is still there.

Only...  
This time, she's starting to realize, it's...-  
"...real..." she whispers, more to herself than to Banner.

"...What?" he asks.

"It's...real. It's real!" she says, louder this time and starting to panic. "Do you hear that?"

"Uh...I heard...me telling-"

"No, no, no. That's not it." Simza interrupts. Her eyes wander around unfocused, searching for something and Banner is taken back by the interruption at first, but he says nothing more as she slips out of his hands and edges towards the source of whatever noise she is hearing.

"Simza, I-" he begins.

But at that moment, her ears prick back and she stops in her tracks and she hears it again-

_Tick...Tick...Tick_  
Then, faster.

And faster.

And faster.  
Until it's just a rapid _tickticktickticktick_ and then-

_BEEEEP!_

And anybody who's anybody in SHIELD knows what that means.

Gasping, Simza jolts back, remembers Banner, instinct takes over and "Get down!" she screams.

Not a hundredth of a second too soon, she dives towards him using all her weight as a deafening _BOOM_ rattles the entire aircraft, sends it tilting in the sky, and she and Banner go crashing through the lab window, then tumbling over the railing, limbs thrown every which direction, across the walkway, and down, down, down until they land with a final _clang! _against the metal flooring of the cargo room.

When the dust settles, Simza is gasping against the pain that's knocked the wind flat out of her. Her lungs feel, for a moment, as if someone's dropped a ton of iron right onto her chest and she's sure she can feel a spray of glass shards embedded in her arm, but when she can breathe again, the first thing she does, is look for him.

There.  
Across the room just a few feet away.

Slowly, slowly, she forces herself up between short hitches of breath.

"Are you...alright?" she gasps.

"Urhgn..." he groans, amidst the sudden tramping of a hundred footsteps and the screaming alarms and panicked orders shouted from above.  
He's lying still, face-down, trying to shake off the pain just like her, but, he manages a nod and so, for all intents and purposes, he's safe.

She takes a moment to breathe a painful sigh of relief, when-

"Sterling! Please tell me that's you and the doctor I just saw crash-landing down there!" Agent Hill shouts, shining a flashlight down in their direction.

Simza squints when the light hits her square in the face and blinded as she is, calls back across the maze of metal pipes and stairs and rails lining the walls, "Yeah, it's me! The doctor's here, too. We got a little roughed up but we're okay!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, there was-"  
She breaks off into a hiss as she tries to stand and feels a searing pain shoot down from the knee.

She frowns in the dark and-...  
Perfect.  
Her leg is oh-so-conveniently trapped between a pipe and a fallen weapon stand. At least it isn't broken.  
It's still an annoyance to be sure, but it's one she can deal with- no matter.  
Banner is fine and that's all she needs.

"There was a bomb! I heard it before it went off!" she tries again. "Call every available agent! Make sure Loki doesn't get away!"

"On it!" Hill nods.  
But then, as she's leaning back over the railing, her blue eyes drift to something just over Simza's shoulder and her face goes sheet white and even her normally flawless mask of confidence, for a second, cracks.  
Simza doesn't notice this just yet, however, too preoccupied with the problem of how she's going to free herself from under a fragile balance of a good 200 pounds of metal at least.

"Sterling..." says Hill.

"Go! We'll be fine!"

"No, Sterling, listen to me!" Hill says, beginning to sound frantic.

"What is it?" she sighs.

In response, the agent merely jerks her head towards something in the background and Simza's starting to feel irritated, but she follows Hill's eyes anyway and when she does...

Her blood turns to ice.

And all her words die on her lips and and she's thrown back into a trap of nightmares, of memories, and every single other feeling in her dies except for fear.

Because...they aren't fine.  
They aren't fine at all.

In fact, they might be doomed.

"Banner?..." Simza whispers.  
Her voice is thin and raspy.

"Unnngh..." comes the response. And he's balling up his hands into a tight fist. He's trying to get up too-soon, and she's realizing his nod wasn't really a nod at all, but a desperate way to clear his busy head, a twitchy, strange animal-like gesture, as he tries to get on his hands and knees but only collapses over and over and over again in a way that's so futile and pathetic it _**would**_ hurt her.  
But there's no time for that now.

Because for the second time in her life, Simza is left small, trapped, helpless. Like Andromeda chained and left before Cetus, and she is only wielding powers that, for all their many uses, are rendered ironically useless whenever it seems to _**really**_ matter.

And in front of her...  
In front of her is the same man.

A changing man.  
A fading man.  
A _**losing**_ man.

"Simza!" Hill calls, snapping her from her horror.

She swallows, hard.

"...Go." Sterling says.

"Have you completely lost it? He's-" Hill protests.

"I said go. Get out of here!" Simza interrupts. "Call the others together and protect the ship. I'll deal with this!"

And even though she knows it is hopeless, even though she knows it is terrible, even though, once, she'd been against the very idea of calling Simza Sterling in for this very reason, for her fear of the past repeating itself, Agent Maria Hill has no choice but to put her faith in the hope that Simza Sterling will be able to do her job.

Because right now, Hill needs to be off doing the very same.

With a hard nod, Fury's second-in-command disappears from over the railing and at once, Simza can hear her running off warnings and orders so quickly, the words all blur together as she tramps off in her heavy boots.

Immediately, Simza turns back to Banner.

"Listen to me...Bruce...We're gonna be okay. We're gonna make it." she tells him, voice shaking as she tries desperately to wrench her ankle from its trap of metal.

Her only response is another quick jerk of his head and a shudder.

So she is less and less certain when she says it again.

"We're...gonna make it..." Simza whispers.

She hopes, but it feels like a lie.

Maybe he knows.

So when Simza feels a scared, traitorous tear trickle down her cheek, she quickly brushes it away and says it one last time.  
Only, this time, she clenches her hand into a tight fist and says it with all the certainty that she can muster.  
"We're gonna be okay."

Then,  
"This time, things _**can**_ be different, Bruce. You just...have...to trust me."

And then,  
Against an entirely new ticking of a time-bomb, she starts the fight for him anew.

She knows she's failed this every single time before.

But this time...

This time, she won't.  
She can't.

* * *

_Simza puts off going home for as long as she can._

_Because what else could going back to an empty living room and too much time to think to herself possibly do but depress her?_

_And so, after she is finished reporting back to Fury and taking care of some other loose ends, she tries to forget herself in the rather unexciting scenes around her city, instead.  
Alone at the movies, dinner at a bistro, a few light drinks at the bar..._

_But eventually, the heels start to kill her and the typical city cat-calls make her afraid she'll maul someone across the face, and so she has no choice but to trek back through the lonely streets and back alleys towards her apartment._

_Stumbling along in a rumpled dress and too-high-heels with tendrils of her hair falling out from her once-proper do- s__he's been a pathetic sight all night and she knows it.__  
But she supposes it doesn't really matter, in the end._

_Even without the power of her touch, who would want to remember her?_

_Sighing, Simza steps into her apartment building and as she reaches her floor and turns the corner, she fishes through her clutch for her keys, her whole body feeling as hard and heavy as lead, exhaustion burning right through her stomach, dragging her entire body down to the floor with it._

_But when she arrives at her home, she makes a startling discovery._

_The door.  
_  
_It's...open._

_And usually Simza Sterling is a smart woman. A sensible one. But just this once, the hope hits her before the suspicion does, and when she remembers that Banner still has a key of his own, s__he marvels at how suddenly lead can turn to something as light as air.  
__Biting back a bubbling laugh of wonder, she pushes the door open, practically bursts inside, shouts his name and-_

_First, all she sees is him, sitting in her armchair with his back turned towards her and for a second, she thinks that maybe the ticking wasn't counting down to something terrible after all.  
It was counting down to something unexplainably, unspeakably just...**wonderful** instead._

_But then, she takes another step into the room, and from behind the jutting edge of the wall, __she sees **them**, her colleagues, staring with mouths agape and eyes wide open in terror at the sight of her.  
And then she sees the gun in their hands, one pressed hard to Banner's temple as his hands grips his seat with a frightening intensity._

_And then she knows she was wrong._

* * *

LJDFNGL...I'm a mess, everybody...Me and my writing both...


	11. The Things That Bring A Better Day

_Ya'll...I am so sorry...__Honestly._  
_But a very happy late Christmas and New Year, from me to you! _  
_May this one be a better one for all of us...Especially in terms of writing...  
I could write a million apologies (and I probably should) for both the quality, or lack-thereof, of my writing and for my super long absences, but I think i'll cut that short and just write one. In all caps. Yeah. That's right. I'm going there._

_I'MMMM SOO SOOORRRRYYYYYYYYYYY!  
__And I mean every annoying, unnecessary extra letter._

_I hope you enjoy! And thank you all so, so much for following and leaving reviews. I really do appreciate it a lot! You guys are the bees knees. The cat's pajamas. The dog's...tuxedo?..._

_P.S. As always, I will re-edit after i've gotten some rest, ya'll!_

* * *

Simza is dead.

Or she is about to be dead _**again**_, anyway, unless somehow, someway, she can do the impossible and get through to the rabid wolf tearing through sheep's clothing right now, right here, in front of her. Because the skin of her ankle is rubbed raw and bruised from trying to squeeze her foot out from the mountain of metal within which it's been caught and if she tries any harder, forget bruised, she's pretty certain the whole damned thing will snap off.

Time for a Plan B.

"Banner." she rasps furiously. "Banner, you have to reach my hand. I can help. I can calm you down, but you have to come to me, do you think you can do that?"

"Unnrgh..."

"Please..." she begs, and she can feel her eyes burn with the sting of a very raw fear. "Bruce, please!"

To his credit, he tries.  
He drags himself just a centimeter forward, collapses, tries again and again and again, and it isn't much, but it's progress.  
It's progress however slow and as trapped and stir-crazy as she feels, it's better than nothing.

As Simza's mind continues to races furiously against the even more desperate pace of her heart, she begins to hope, at least, that things really will be okay.  
She justifies it to herself, however pathetically.  
And Banner's become more practiced, more controlled, in the time they've been apart. (Er...Right?) And thank God, thank Buddha, thank _**whoever**_, for that.

_We're okay. We're okay. We're okay..._

She'll always regret thinking it.

Because something else does go wrong, of course.  
And seconds later, there's another deafening _BOOM!_ that sends them all reeling followed by a_ Crash! KRSH! _of a door being blown to pieces somewhere much too nearby.

Simza throws her arm across her face as pieces of metal explode from the side of the ship that no doubt has been hit yet again. A hot rain of rubble bites at her cheeks and neck, but she can hardly feel it, as just then, the unsettlingly robotic stamping of unfamiliar footsteps grows closer and closer and closer.

And that can only mean one thing.  
Loki's men.  
They've boarded the Helicarrier, and she is almost out of time.  
Her stomach lurches fearfully at the thought.

"Bruce!" she pleads again. "I know it's hard, but just a little more, okay? A little more. I can try to-"

She hears gunshots, first.

_**Sees**_ gunshots after.

Then, a gun.

One of Loki's men rounds the bend, aiming it straight at _**him**_ and a shot of sheer, cold horror stabs into her gut, releasing a flood of damp icy dread all through her blood.

"No...No, no, please- STOP!" Simza screams. "He'll kill all of you too! Don't you understand?!"

He obviously does not.

With milky blue eyes, the man's gaze locks onto her, but his face doesn't change and his feet don't halt, and so, Simza abandons the idea of talking and desperately fumbles around in the dark, praying she''ll find something, anything, that will save them instead.

"Come on, come on..." she whispers furiously, as the man comes ever closer.

There's nothing there but rubble. Bits of broken glass. A piece of wire. A pen.  
And then, a godsend.

Amongst all the other junk, her hands _**finally**_ close around something familiar; a pistol.  
"Thank you..." Simza gasps.

But before she can even sigh in relief, there's another low groan and, remembering herself, she whips around- flips the safety, aims as best she can, squeezes the trigger, and then-

_Bang!_

Two guns go off.

And two bullets hit.

Each of them finds their target.

And so, even as the soldier's lifeless body slumps to the floor,  
Simza's hands won't stop shaking because she knows;

She has failed him once again.

It's over.

* * *

_It's the test._

_It's the thing she's been waiting for **21 days** to happen, but not like this..._

_Not out in the open, not with Banner confused and terrified, not with a million possible outlying factors that could make this all go terribly, horribly, completely wrong._

_'We'll talk to him.  
We'll conduct tests **with his permission**.  
We'll make sure the doctor knows what he's getting into.'  
That's what Fury had said._

_Then, Simza feels a sudden sinking sensation in her stomach.  
A sensation that she's grown much too accustomed to feeling in the past few weeks:  
Betrayal._

_Because  
'**Fury** had said'.  
_  
_She should've known better than to take him for his word again._  
_  
She hates him for his tricks._  
_She hates it even more that she has to play along, but better that than have Banner fail the test and wake up somewhere strange and new, alone again, so Simza channels that hate, she puts on her best act and,_

_"What. The. Hell do you think you're doing?!" she rages._

_For a moment, Agent O'Conner's eyes flicker towards his partner's and his hand starts to shake around his pistol as he thinks through the steps of the procedure again. _

_1 am, enter Agent Simza Sterling. The test trigger.  
Well, actually, it's 2 am now, but even so, by all other accounts things are going according to plan.  
That doesn't make it any less terrifying to be the subject of her anger, exactly. (And both O'Conner and his partner can tell by the fury in her eyes that it **is** real anger.)_

_Thankfully, Agent O'Neil is more level-headed than he, and so, once they've regained their senses, O'Conner lets him speak instead._

_"Get lost, kid. You got one chance." he snarls. "We're not here for you. Just walk away, alright?"_

_O'Conner throws in a melodramatic cackle and a wave of his gun here and Simza Sterling has to surpress the urge to roll her eyes and utter an "Ugh"._

_Plain-Jane 'Ellie Mills', on the other hand, is scared. Suddenly less sure now in the face of a very real, and very new possibility of being **killed**, and she squirms around for a long second and weighs the dangers; two burly men, lounging ever-so-comfortably, one at the window, one at Banner's side. They're tall. Probably strong. Definitely armed.  
Standing at a mere 5'2 and with no knowledge of self-defense to speak of, she most certainly stands no chance..._

_For a second, she considers the offer._

_But then, her eyes fall on Buck._  
_On his tense, disheartened, and depressed form with his head hanging low in self-loathing, and, Ellie knows it's a mistake but...  
Ultimately, she just chooses him.  
_  
_Her hand clutches at the hem of her dress._  
_"I'm...I'm not going anywhere." she stammers out. "You...let him go or i'll call the police!"_

_The first man laughs cruelly from his place at Bruce's side.  
With a flourish, he nods to his partner, a__nd oh...god..._

_Banner can't see her, but__ he can **hear** a wild struggle, the tearing of cloth, the crash of a table being knocked over, a punch, a hard kick, another laugh.  
Which means she's caught..._

_He should have known better than to think she'd run and save herself, and for a second, his insides churn and he thinks he's gonna be sick._

_Because now it's all on him. _  
_If he wants her to live...  
If he wants **not** to be the one to kill her- _

_A cold prickle of fear crawls through his skin at the very idea and all stop up in his chest together and- __it's...it's just too much.  
_  
_He can't breathe. He can't think.  
He sure as hell can't do this._  
_He- he isn't strong enough..._

_But he has to be._

_His hands clenched so tight, his palm starts to bleed in little crescent marks, he wills **him** to be silent. To obey. Just this once.  
Please!_

_But why would he?...  
_  
_Especially when the second man drags an innocent Ellie Mills across the floor and throws her across the floor by his feet.  
Bruce gets one good look at her and, oh no..._

_His diseased heart pulses a sickly beat out of rhythm. _

_"Mmmmhp! Mmm!" Ellie screams, muffled through a gag.  
One sleeve of her ruined dress still hanging off her shoulder from the scuffle, she kicks and struggles through the ties that bind her wrists, but that only earns her another strike across her already battered face, this one hard enough to render her silent. Silent, and scared._

_For a moment across the space, their eyes suddenly lock._  
_And Banner is so caught-off guard, his mouth goes dry and he can only swallow, hard, and prepare himself for the inevitable blame._

_He obviously doesn't know her very well._

_Because if he had, he would have been able to guess that the moment she recognized his face, she wouldn't hate him._  
_She'd only nod and twist her lips into a sad attempt at a reassuring smile, and in that moment, Banner loves her so much he can't look away._

_Her..._  
_He has to save **her**, even if nothing else in his lifetime._  
_And he will. He **can**. If he tries._  
_He resolves that to himself, and returns her nod with one of his own, a more confident one than anyone's ever seen from him in years._

_Someone steps between them._

_"You can save her, you know." the taller man murmurs, meeting him face to face. And his voice is calm and kind. "The girl. She doesn't have to die...Just tell us where your research is."_

_"I already told you...I don't know what you're talking about." Banner says through gritted teeth._

_But at that, the man's face contorts and he's not calm at all. He's angry, dangerous, furious._  
_All the things that Banner wishes that he, really **he,** not 'the other guy', could feel, but can't.  
He pushes the feelings down harder._

_"You're a shitty liar, doctor." the man hisses._

_He jerks his head at his partner and Banner's heart stops when the other man grins ferally and lashes out at Simza again.  
One. Two. Three punches.  
_

_Banner's stomach sinks with each one, but they don't let up until she's a groaning mess on the floor.  
And oh, no...  
No.  
He can feel it, red hot anger, welling up again._

_Think, Banner. Think!_  
_There has to be something he can do._  
_Lie? No, he can't chance it._  
_The truth? No, they wouldn't believe it._  
_Then...what? What's left? What is there?_

_Someone grabs at his collar, tearing his attention away._

_"The research, doctor!" the man snarls. "The gamma research for the bomb; the last project they ever gave you. We're out of patience. Now tell us! Or we'll kill you!"_

_The man points the gun between his eyes, and it's so close Banner can practically smell the hot metal._

_If he gets shot, it's over._

_He fumbles through shaky thoughts, desperately._

_The man, however, only chuckles._

_"Alright, we'll kill her." he says.  
He turns the gun on Simza and-_

_That's when it hits him._  
_They know. The men **know**._  
_They're cautious enough to restrain him, but not smart enough to do it well. And if the 'other guy' were to come out and play..._

_Maybe they'd run.  
It's worth a shot._

_Immediately, Banner grips the arms of the chair. He shakes his head, frowns, clenches his teeth, doubles over..._

_The man in front of him pauses._

_Banner groans, rocks back and forth until the ropes come loose._

_It works.  
_  
_"Hey...What's happening to him?"_

_"I- I don't know..."_

"_What's happening?_!"  
_  
"I said I don't know!"  
_  
_"What do you mean 'you don't know'?! Look at him! He's turning!"_

_"B-but I- I don't- What do we do?..."_

_"Just shoot him!"_

_And at that, Simza's battered, swollen eyes widen.  
Because oh, no...  
She knows that look._

_She knows that look and this **goddamned** idiot!_  
_He's planning to shoot for real._

_"Mnnn!" she screams. "Mmmphhh! Mmet mm GOOO!"_  
_She tries kicking furniture, she tries stomping her feet, she tries everything._  
_It's no use._

_Her damned amateur colleagues aren't paying her a lick of attention and her trust has been misplaced again._

_When the gun comes out, Simza shuts her eyes and a choking sob erupts from the deepest part of her miserable insides._

_And what happens next,  
well..._

_In the coming years, she claims it as SHIELD's fault._

_But somewhere beneath all the snark and bitterness and hatred, she always remembers it is hers, too._

_Because they were time-bombs._

_She'd been smart enough to realize that in the beginning. But over the weeks, she'd become the kind of naive, unbelievable dumbass to mistake lying dormant for being diffused. And now?..._

_They've caught fire.  
They detonate._

_And the explosion is nuclear._

* * *

He begins to change right before her eyes.

No.  
No, no, no, no, no.

...

She's screwed.

They're all screwed and it's all her fault because once again, she's managed to _**fail**_.

Simza can't believe it.  
Then again, she can.

And that's the saddest part.

* * *

_"Do something!" O'Conner shouts.  
"Alert Fury!" O'Neil yells.  
"Run away!"  
"Call for help!"  
_

_"STMPH PMNICKING!" Simza shouts. "Mnd untie mme!"_

_They do.  
And with that, she viciously tears off her gag and, clearing her blurry vision with a sniff and a quick wipe with the back of her hand, she gets to her feet to face the side of Banner she's never met._

_It's not too late. No matter what form he's in.  
She has to believe that._

_Simza kicks off her shoes, shakes out her tension, goes sprinting towards him at the same time he comes barraging to her._  
_He swipes at her face, but she dodges right, comes up from behind, then she focuses all her willpower into her hand and-..._

_And _

_oh..._

_no..._

_This...this is a factor that no one saw coming._

_Her powers._

_They don't work on Hulk._  
_Only on Banner._

* * *

Frozen solid in pure fear, she slowly looks from the meaty, tree-trunk sized legs, up a thick bulky arm, to a veiny green neck, to his face.

But it isn't really his face at all. And those aren't his eyes.  
Because now, there's not a sliver of kindness in them.

* * *

_She sees only anger._

_And then, that hatred that'd she'd picked out from the photo in the paper just a day ago. __But now, that hatred grows a voice and it sounds like a loud, threatening snarl._

* * *

At the familiar sound, her neck snaps up, a gigantuan fist is raised in the air.

* * *

_She gasps._

* * *

And in that second, her entire life flashes before her eyes.  
...

* * *

_..._

_It happens in one second, there in that apartment on a brisk spring night: the thing that forever ties them so impossibly close together and yet keeps them an unsurmountable distance apart.  
__The last time they touch, the last memory they have, the last taunting, tantalizing vision of who the other will have nightmares about for six long, lonely years._

_The wronged man, the wronged woman._  
_The murderer, the dead girl._  
_The liar, the deceived man._  
_Whichever version of the story, take your pick._

_But the facts are these:_

_1\. He moves so fast she didn't see it coming._

_But when she does, it seems so obvious, she can't even panic. She can't even move.  
__She can only think one syllable,  
__'Oh...'_

_2\. And then he grabs her._

_When his hand closes around her face, there's no other way to say it but 'it hurts'._  
_It hurts so bad, the fear overwhelms her, and only then, she wakes from a horrified daze and lets out a long, wretched scream._

_3\. But then, the muscles in his fingers clench._  
_And somehow, it gets worse._

_And under the sheer strength, the sheer pressure, one-by-one, each of her bones- her nose, her jaw, her cheek, crunch and crumble as easily as a fall leaf under a boot._

_Then, 4. Something feels wet and tastes coppery as it drips down her face, everything's foggy.  
Someone's shouting her name?...  
Everything's bleary, cloudy, and it hurts...oh, every part of her **hurts**..._

_And finally, 5._

_But it only hurts for a moment._  
_Because then, something lifts her body up again, and she feels weightless and airy just for a second..._

_Before it slams her back down against the floor to a background of muffled shouts and choked cries, and that's when her vision statics and stutters like a failing machine,_

_and finally goes completely black._

* * *

"Stop it, Simza..." she snaps to herself.

This isn't the time to brood about past mistakes, and she'll go to hell and back before she'll let him deal with the guilt of killing her again.  
And so, Simza quickly goes to a hastily improvised plan C instead.

As _**he**_, Bruce Banner, snarls and roars and then, charges towards her, she glances down, resigned, at where her foot is trapped and oh, this will not be good.

But, she steels herself, she grits her teeth, takes a breath, then...  
She just pulls and pulls and _**pulls**_\- until there's metal scraping against the bone of her ankle and blood trickling down her calf into her shoe, and then there's a sudden

_crunch!_

as the weapon stand shifts and something bigger, heavier, comes toppling down.

Simza screams in pain when it hits and oh...  
Something is most definitely broken now.

She's sweating. She's shaking.

And she's breathing so hard and her heart's beating so loud the pain doesn't even feel real yet. But then, she gives one final tug and she gasps in unbelievable relief as she finally comes free.

Without even thinking twice, she takes off in a full sprint, but she doesn't expect the burning pounding in her limb and so she stumbles first.  
Ends up on the floor. Sees **_him _**running straight for her and just as his fist is about to collide with her face-

Gasps.

Rolls to the side and then keeps pushing, sliding herself further and further through the narrow space between the pipes and the ground.

When she gets through to the other side, she drags herself up with a pained hiss, but, no time for rest- is immediately off again and she can't even tell if she's laughing or crying or sweating or sobbing or all the above at once. She just knows that she's _**moving**_. One foot in front of the other at a dragging pace, but she's getting somewhere despite the crippling weakness.

When she comes to a crossroad, she chooses the road less traveled by, by not choosing a road at all, and instead, shimmies through a narrow opening, hoping the pipes will slow him down and give her a chance to breathe but-  
_Fssshhh! CLANG!_

He only tears them out, as easily as tearing paper, and keeps coming.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!"

Her feet pound against the metal floor.  
In her condition, she can't be quiet. Can't be discreet. And has one gun against a bullet-proof man?

For now, damn everything else, she needs _**out **_because there's no way she can do this alone.  
No matter how much she loves him, she knows she has a limit.

She takes off for the stairs, but just as she reaches the catwalk, a blurred figure cuts across her vision and-

"Urgh!"

Simza goes sprawling backward, dizzy from the sheer force of whatever it was that had hit her.  
Hissing through her teeth, she glances up. She isn't exactly pleased at the prospect of running into someone.  
She's hardly in the position to make sure _**she **_survives let alone some other-

"Sterling..."  
A voice says, cutting through her thoughts.

Her head snaps up and it's...  
Thor...  
Romanoff, too, just behind.

And for a moment, Simza's grinning like a fool and she never thought she'd be so glad to see another face again.

"Sorry about that." the man grumbles, pulling her up to her feet.

But out of her mind with relief, Simza just throws her arms around the both of them, eliciting a very startled look from Romanoff and Thor alike.  
"Holy shit...I'm so...glad to see you guys..." she gasps between pained breaths of air.

But then, that relief wears off and her common sense returns and she pulls back immediately.  
"Banner..." she starts. "He...He's changed...There was a man. He shot him."

That sobers the both of them immediately.

"Simza, where is he?" Romanoff asks, all business.

"I...managed...slip away. Lost him somewhere. Still down...there." She pauses to catch her breath for real. Then, she looks down at the floor in shame, "There was no point in calling me in after all...I got stuck, couldn't reach him in time."

At that, Romanoff shakes her head and makes to say something, but just then, there's a distant growl and instead, Romanoff and Thor just exchange uneasy glances as the pounding of fists on metal grows nearer.

"We can't let him reach the upper levels." Romanoff says.

Simza nods in agreement.  
"The three of us have to keep him busy. Somehow."

"And then? What after?" questions Thor, but he is already preparing himself to run. "We can't just lead the doctor on a wild chase forever."

"I'm working on it!" Simza shouts. "For now, go!"

They dash off in three different directions-  
And as Simza throws a look back over her shoulder as she half-limps, half-sprints away, she sees that the one Banner is now chasing, is Thor.  
Some part of her breathes a small sigh of relief.

At least if he takes a hit, he won't die.  
Er...Will he?

Suddenly less certain, her footsteps come to a halt, and just as she sees Thor bracing himself for the impact of a lifetime, she hurriedly yanks off the shoe of her good foot, sock and all, and before she can stop herself, hurls it towards Hulk with all her might thinking, _Banner, i'm so sorry!_

When it hits him, smack in the face, both Thor and Hulk's heads whirl in her direction.

"Uh...And that's my cue to go." she whispers, just as a roaring Banner comes tramping down for her again.

And holy shit. He's gotten faster.  
Arms swinging, fists flailing out and wrecking everything around him.  
But oh...she's in bad, bad condition and her body is starting to realize it even despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"Romanoff!" Simza screams, tearing down the hall.

"I'm on it!" comes the response.

Simza's head flicks up towards the noise and then,  
_Wham!_

Banner's shoulder makes contact with a thick metal pipe. And as Banner reels from the shock, Simza hurriedly picks whatever junk she can find on the ground and chucks it at him.

When Thor arrives, there's a spontaneous moment of understanding that passes between the three of them who stand there.  
And when Romanoff and Simza, nod, he holds up a hand from where he is standing and waits-

"Keep him distracted!"  
"Throw something! Now!"  
"Got it!"

Then,_  
WHUMP!_

A hunk of flying indestructible metal hits Banner so hard in the gut, he goes sprawling ten feet backwards into a sea of cardboard boxes, finally giving the three of them a second to breathe.

"We...work well together..." Simza gasps, in their brief moment of triumph.  
Romanoff nods in agreement, too breathless to speak, and Thor, merely grins.  
"That, we do." His smile is as sunny as it ever is.

But then, echoing across the metal walls leagues away, is a sudden terse, robotic shout. A familiar voice, though not a familiar tone.  
Even still, Simza can't quite place who it belongs to until she glances at Romanoff and...

"Was that..." the spy starts, suddenly all attention.

"...Agent Barton." Simza pants with a nod. "I'd bet my life on it."

Out of instinct, Romanoff's foot takes a step forward. Then, she remembers herself, but Simza already knows where the red-head's mind is.

"Go..." she breathes.

Romanoff's green eyes flicker in her direction.  
"Are you sure?" the spy asks.

Simza shrugs in what she hopes is a casual manner.  
"Yeah. We got this. Right, Thor?" She turns to the beefy man, but he is looking elsewhere.  
She follows his gaze and, uh-oh. Hulk is beginning to rise again. And he's mad, mad, _**mad**_ and Simza immediately straightens.

"Shite. Time to run." she squeaks.  
Thor nods, trusty hammer in hand.

This time, the two of them run together, but Romanoff hesitates.  
And Simza understands why.

"Natasha, go!" she shouts over her shoulder. "I have a plan! We'll be fine!"

"You sure?"

"Completely!" Thor calls back.

Reluctantly, the spy nods in thanks. Then, she skitters away, steps as light and silent as her namesake spider.  
When she's gone...

"So. What is your plan exactly?" Thor huffs from beside, finally beginning to show some wear.

Simza nearly falters.  
"Er...About that..." she begins, thoughts scattered, words even more so. Each breathe of air hurts and honestly, she's so tired half of her wants to sit down right this second and just let whatever happen, happen.

"You don't have a plan?" Thor gapes in disbelief.

"Well-"

There's a sudden creaking and snapping and crashing behind them and when they chance a look back, oh god...  
Hulk is pounding and clawing at the water pipes in his struggle to reach them. And right now, on top of all the other shite going on, a flooded ship is the very _**last** _thing anyone needs.

Furiously, Simza thinks through every bit of info she'd gathered on Banner over the years. Every incident, every kill, every disaster.  
He might be unkillable, but he _**has** _to have a weakness. There_** has**_ to be a solution.

"He will destroy the ship, Sterling! We have to do something!" Thor shouts.

"I know, I know! I'm-"

But then, out of absolutely nowhere, she's hit with a lightning strike of inspiration.

"...We can push him off..." she murmurs.

"What?" Thor frowns, straining over a sudden burst of gunfire from above.

"Banner! Hulk! We can push him off the Helicarrier!" Simza says again, the plan rapidly forming in her mind. "Beneath Loki's cell. There's an emergency airlock! It was built for the doctor in case he turned. I'll stand in front of it and lure him over, you stand on the other side, exactly behind me, and when I say, hold up your hand! Your hammer thing should knock him and me both into the airlock!"

"You and the doctor both?" Thor asks. "You would jump out the ship, just to stay with him?"

Simza nods, without a trace of hesitation.

"And you're sure this will work? We can't just set him loose amongst the people of your earth!"

"Oh, it'll work." Simza says. "He'll survive, but the fall, that minute of inaction, it should be enough to get him changing back. And if not, well...i'll have to figure it out."

"...You're mad..." Thor remarks.

Simza winces.  
"I might be." she mumbles. "Now, come on!"

Despite his reservations, they take off, do exactly what they were told not to do and run up the stairs to take a hard left through a veritable crowd, until they're heading for the Loki's prison.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!" Simza shouts. "We've got a hulk on the way! Move to the upper levels!"

What few agents remain, only look at her, at first.  
Then, patience snapping, Thor booms in his regal voice, "Move! The doctor is coming here. Now!"

After that, they're a screaming panic and Simza rolls her eyes.

Leave it to men to ignore a woman's warning.

But then, she quickly glances around the room and she sees why they were standing so shell-shocked...  
There are bodies littered everywhere; SHIELD and other.  
And the cell door is open.

And Loki is gone.

_**Goddammit.**_

No. Not right now.  
Quickly, Simza regathers her bearings and moves on because that's a battle for a different time.

Right now...

"Here." Thor says, thrusting what looks like a backpack into her arms.

"Thanks." Simza breathes. And immediately, she's hustling to strap the parachute all about her person. For good measure, she tears an earpiece out of a deceased agent's ear and secures it in her own.

"Are you ready?" Thor calls, hand poised over the button.

Immediately, Simza grasps onto the nearest handrails and gives a nod. "Ready!" she calls.

His hand comes down and the floor opens up and as a sudden gust of wind hits her square in the face Simza has to gasp.  
Cautiously, she peers over the edge of the enormous black hole in the floor that'll lead to who knows where in this dead of night.

An uneasy thrill runs to the tips of her fingers.  
"Simza, what the hell do you think you're doing?..." she whispers to herself.

But then, just as quick, the doubt goes away because-

"He's here!" Thor shouts, over the woosh and the whistle of the air.

She takes a deep breath. And then, an enormous shadow rounds the bend and his eyes meet hers.  
He comes charging right for her.

Out of habit, Simza's breathing grows quick and shallow, but she squeezes onto the metal bar until her knuckles are white and she's ready.

Twenty feet.

Then ten.

Then nine.

Eight.

"Steady!" Thor booms.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

She steels herself for the impending blow. Swallows a hard lump in her throat. Lets go.

Four.

Three.

Two.

There's a roar so close to her ear, her entire body shudders and goes stiff, and...

"Now!" she screams.

There's a deafening ringing in the air, Simza squeezes her eyes shut. And not a second too soon, a crushing force comes out of nowhere, and hits her like train running full speed on the tracks.  
The wind gets knocked clean out of her lungs.  
She goes flying back, then something yanks her forward, and then, she's spinning every which way, and then...

-she's just...falling.

Free-falling at a break-neck speed of what feels like a thousand miles per hour, and she knows that what she should be feeling is relief, as sweet and free and pure as the night air rushing through her hair.

But oh, what a crappy time to remember that she's sorta scared of heights...

And so, instead, Simza just screams out years and years' worth of pent up stress, fear, anxiety, pain...

All

the

long

way

down.

* * *

_She spends an eternity in a sleepy, endless, bleary nightmare of needles and scalpels, of bright lights shining behind surgical masks, of drugs and painkillers and feeling aches and pains all over her body._

_And when she finally comes to, she's confused, more than anything._

_And she's babbling and moaning incoherently because everything feels...**hot** and she can feel and **see** her own blood pumping, and so they drug her up some more and shove her in a dark room so she'll stop asking so many questions._

_It takes days before her head clears.  
Weeks before she has enough sense to recognize that she's lying on a stretcher, staring at a gray ceiling, and every part of her is wrapped up in gauze.  
And months before she remember who the hell she is and why she's there._

_But on the day that she does,_

_ Fury is there.  
Sitting in the corner and watching over her with his signature grimace on his face and Simza takes a shaky breath because it's time to face the music.  
But she still has hope._

_Without saying a word because she** can't** say a word, she works through the pain and turns her bandaged face just enough to look at him questioningly._

_And for a long moment, he holds her gaze._

_Waits for an eternity._

_But then, it happens.  
Just one small, imperceptible shake of his head._

_'He's gone.'_

_In that moment, Simza feels a pain far greater than anything else she's felt before._

_She blinks away. And her arms are still strapped down, so the tears that form in the corners of her swollen eyes fall against her patch-worked face freely._

* * *

When Simza lands, she kisses the ground.  
And thank god it's night time and there's no one around or else, Simza thinks she'd have a hard time explaining to the authorities why a girl with only one shoe, a broken ankle, and a parachute strapped to her body is hugging the ground like a crazy woman.

She's...relieved. She _**more **_than relieved, there isn't even a word for what she feels right now, but then, she remembers.  
It still isn't over.

Now, she's got to find him.

And so, she stumbles across the empty parking lot she's landed in, finds herself a good walking stick, and staggers and stumbles her way around town.

She searches all night, poking her nose in and around the city. And judging by a few pennies tossed disdainfully her way, she learns that she unintentionally makes a very convincing homeless woman, apparently...  
She learns nothing else of any import.

That is, not until she finally goes nosing through an abandoned building in the outskirts of town, where she needs only to notice the enormous gaping hole in the ceiling and the mountain of rubble in the center of the room to know that she's finally found him._  
_

Bones aching and weary from the stress of all the night's action, she staggers over, practically on hands and knees, and finds him still passed out among the blocks of cement, a lock of dark hair falling messily into his shut eyes, his lips parted as he breathes in and out with a frown etched between his brows.  
He sleeps as fitfully as he ever has...

Not that she can blame him.  
He, she, they've _**both**_ had, quite the big, important day.

And just for now, delirious with knowing he's back near her at last, Simza forgets her reservations and plants a kiss directly on his forehead, before pulling back and passing the back of her hand gently across his rough cheek instead.

"We did it, Bruce…" she murmurs to him triumphantly with a little laugh. "You're okay, i'm okay...I'm alive.." She pauses. Then, she presses her forehead to his own and whispers, her whole heart in it, "Thank you..."

After that, she eases her bruised and battered body down beside him, rubble jabbing into her back at every angle, but as tired as she is, she doesn't mind. She merely rests her head in her arm, looks up at the sky through the damaged infrastructure, and watches the sky turn slowly from a deep, dark, starry blue into a swirl of beautiful violet and pink and orange as the hours pass.

They have their wars to fight- more than one kind.  
Because she lied and he knows and the world is going to hell and everything's a disaster.

But she'll wake him for all of that later.  
For now, she'll enjoy the peace and calm and quiet while she can.

While he can...

It makes for a laughable scene- as it always somehow seems to be when the two of them are together.

Two people, one arse naked, one fully clothed (well, minus one sock), both haggard and rumpled and lying on a nest of rubble directly underneath a man-shaped hole in the roof...

Still, somehow, with the beginnings of a golden morning sun filtering in through the stained glass windows that line the sides of the building…

It's beautiful.

Simza can't help but smile.

And she remembers that **_this_**...  
This moment of quiet after a job well done, this glimpse of happiness after a nonstop, fast-paced day, this knowing she has somewhere to go and something to do and someone to protect, it's why she'd joined SHIELD in the first place.

And, forget 'hero', maybe this right here is all she really needs.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!_


	12. The Reasons Why They Won't Let Go

_Enjoy everybody! I'm so, so sorry for all my rambling all the time, but just...thank you all so much for reading, following, all of that. I'm still a nervous wreck about writing and I know my writing needs a lot of work, but I really appreciate your support! Thank you so much for all the time you've invested in my story!  
Hope you like it, and, as always, feedback would be great!_

_I've spent the past month trying to get inspired reading comics, watching Avengers over and over and over again, reading the damned script, but I don't know...Honestly, i've just been feeling less and less confident the more I write? Which makes zero sense... I know this chapter is pretty wordy and not very exciting, but hopefully you still enjoy!...  
_

* * *

"Hello-...Hello?...Agent...are-...there? _Crrkkk!_"

The muted crackling of the static that cuts through the complete silence is not anywhere near loud. Still, it's just loud enough against the quiet, sunny silence of the late afternoon to wake one newly reverted, human Bruce Banner, with his pounding head and groggy disposition.

His eyes flutter open, first.  
And then, in the middle of an empty, echoing abandoned building, slowly, slowly, he sits himself up and there are aches and pains all throughout his body. When his eyesight finally falls into focus, he knows why.

It's because he's sleeping on a bed of literal rocks.

Rocks?...

Oh no.

_**Rocks.  
**_  
He's on solid ground.  
And that means he's suddenly praying that it's not because of what he suspects, but one-by-one, the damning memories slowly start to filter back through his unsteady mind.

He was...in the lab. A bomb? An attack. A gun. And then-

A cold dead weight drops right to the pit of his stomach.

He turned.

That's all he can be certain of, but for now that's as far as he needs to go and oh no. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no...

A dark feeling of dread clouds over his mind, and cautiously, reluctantly, Banner turns around, steeling himself for the hellish sight of a downed Helicarrier and blood and death and destruction all around him.

But he looks and...nothing.

Four walls, a roof, some stained glass-  
Everything looks just about as pristine as an old building could possibly look, save for the...gaping hole in the roof?...  
The one that, a dazed Banner surmises, is just about 'the other guy's' size meaning that last night, he must have taken one hell of a long fall.

Well, either that, or somebody pushed him on purpose...

Bruce heaves a heavy sigh then, wondering what exactly it says about him that he's working with a group of people who would have no qualms with shoving him out the door of an aircraft.

Then again, at least nobody's dead. (That he knows of, at least.)

And with that conundrum solved, the doctor relaxes, ever so slightly, and moves on to the next problem; the one of 'what the hell does he do now?...'

Banner tries his hardest to get the tired gears in his head turning at a somewhat decent pace, but with his mental capacity now spent, only a sharp pain goes shooting through his skull and, flinching, he puts one hand to his head and just sighs instead.

That is when he hears it again. And clearer, this time.

"_Crrrrrk!_ Agent? Hello? Agent, are you there?"

Banner frowns.

'Agent'?...  
He's no agent.  
And where the hell is that noise coming from, anyway?

When it sounds yet a third time, he follows the direction of the muffled voice with his eyes.

A little to the left...Somewhere right beside him...  
It's coming...from the rubble?

He turns his head.

And there, half buried underneath a pile of stone and concrete is a limp, roughed-up body that he hadn't even noticed there before.

That's...

Why, that's...

Simza Sterling.

And Banner's heart suddenly stops dead in his chest when he leans in closer and he notices the..._**blood**,_ first- dark, dry, and caked onto her skin. Next, the hair, mussed up and matted and thrown messily across her face. And then, and only then, just the one bare foot- mottled and swollen and purple.

For a long moment, his mind is somewhere gone and lost and the only thought that echoes in his head is this:

He can't have done it.  
He _**can't**_ have.

But...he has once before and so what else would his mind do but jump to the very worst conclusion?

His nose is already stinging. His vision is already blurry.  
And he's a full-grown man who hasn't done this in years, but before he knows it, bitter, wet tears are tainting his eyes a blood-shot red.

It's a long, long minute before he can fight through the overwhelming grief and speak. And even when he can, it is only a paltry:

"...I'm sorry..." that Banner whispers to her.

But, "_Snrrrgghkk!_" Simza snores right back. And then-

...

Wait.

**_What?_**

Banner freezes, so surprised by the ungodly, yet uniquely familiar and rather anticlimactic sound that the tears stop short altogether.

"Simza?..." he breathes.

Unbelieving, he reaches out a heavy hand. Pauses. Then, pushes on and goes ahead pressing it tenderly to her rough, scarred cheek.

It's still...warm.  
And at the feel of his skin to hers, the slumbering woman suddenly mumbles and sighs and leans into the touch, and relief rushes Bruce all at once.

Thank god...

"You're alive..." he murmurs out loud, too overwhelmed to do anything but state the obvious.

Then, he laughs.

Not dead. Sleeping.  
And snoring away the exact same way she used to before...

Banner doesn't know exactly what happened a few long hours ago, but in this moment, he doesn't care.  
It's just the result that matters:  
They're here. And _**she's** _here.  
And she's alive.

Unable to stop a smile, he reaches out again. This time, to wake her, but just then, _whooosh!_

A sudden breeze blows in from the hole in the ceiling and Banner feels it exactly...er...where he _**shouldn't**_.  
He glances down, and...

Oh. Damn it.

Is she always gonna see him like this?

But just as Banner's about to hop up and go off in search of something to at least cover himself with, the door across the floor creaks open.

Immediately, he is on edge. And beside him, there's a groan and a murmur and much, much too soon, Simza starts to life again, squinting around the room, looking as if she's just had the deepest sleep in the world complete with mussed up hair, swollen eyes, and an empty, dead expression.

Banner doesn't know which way to turn first, but facing any which direction leaves the other half of him exposed, and so, he simply plants himself back onto the rubble, fumbles for a good-sized rock, and readies himself for trouble.

Fortunately for him...

"Oh. Looks like the two of you are finally up."

The person that hobbles in is just...an old man.  
He's thin and gangly and sporting a worn security uniform in addition to one hell of a wide-eyed stare. Still, he strolls up, as casual as anything, and Banner has nothing to do but wait, albeit very uncomfortably.

"Uh..." comes Bruce's answer.

He sneaks a glance at Simza for some plan of action, but she has yet to fully process the current situation in which they've somehow found themselves, and it's happening so gradually, he can see each individual muscle in her face wake up as she yawns and scratches her head and squints around.

She says nothing.

Banner looks back at the security guard.

The man doesn't say anything either.

It all falls on him then, and so, Bruce merely settles for a half-smile, but he can feel his upper lip twitching the entire time in awkwardness and, as expected, the security guard doesn't bite; only continues staring with dark eyes so black and void, Banner's starts to break out into a nervous sweat when-

"So. You two some of them exhibitionists?" the old man inquires with a set frown.

Banner nearly chokes on his own spittle.  
Simza actually does, and after a good minute of hacking and coughing,  
"I- what?" she balks.

She's wide awake now.

"You know. Them people who like to get all freaky in public."  
The man gestures towards Banner's naked form and after a purely_** accidental**_ peek, of course, Simza's jerks her head the other way so fast he nearly gets whiplash.

Banner, to his credit, subtly attempts to shift the piece of rubble in his hand in place over his...schlong and both their faces are so red, even Simza can't laugh this one off.

"No! No, no. No. We just- we...Uh..." she splutters, cheeks only flaring hotter with every humiliating second spent in the spotlight. "I- He...Well, he was lost and I was looking for him. And then...I-...found him. But there was an accident and, I mean, that's how he ended up...well...-"

"Buck-ass nude." the man finishes for her simply.

And at that, Simza and Banner trail off into silence, embarrassed at his bluntness.

Then, at the exact same time, the words really hit them and they turn and blink just once at each other, wide-eyed, and in light of the sheer ridiculousness of their situation, in light of their relief, in light of that one stupid pun all the way back from the day they'd met, Simza and Banner suddenly can't help it- they dissolve into a secret laugh shared just between the two of them, and they're smiling and shaking their heads and this moment is so soft and warm and familiar, that it's like their dead, withered insides are filling up with golden liquid sun.

But then, she's looking at him, _**really**_ looking at him, and she's awake 100 percent and she remembers the very last thing he'd said to her before it all went up in flames.

He knows...  
He knows that she's a liar and she hasn't explained and she feels so ashamed her laughter trails off.

"...I..." she stammers. "...I- I..."

Her eyes immediately waver; start flickering around in fear.  
Banner waits, expectantly.

"I..." she says again.

A pause.

"Excusemeforamoment." she breathes in rush.

And then, Simza jumps up to her feet, having forgotten all about her injury until a fresh pain suddenly shoots up her leg and she hisses as she takes a nasty tumble forward.  
Both men jump forward to catch her at the same time, but it's Banner who reaches her first.

"Are you alright?" he asks, panicked.

She waves him off a hundred times, not even looking him in the eye. But that means, hunched over as she is, she's, instead, just inches from his...well, his _**thing**_.

And she hurriedly pushes him off her completely.

"I- Uh-huh. Yep. Perfectly fine! Sorry. Someone's talking in my ear, that's all." Simza titters in a voice much too high-pitched, nervously gesturing to her head where he can just make out the answer to his previous mystery; a transceiver.  
At the moment, there is a tiny voice shouting, sounding panicked as it asks its crackling questions.

He lets her go.  
And the entire time he watches Simza limp over to the corner, Banner thinks over her split-second change from laughing to silence and he wonders why it is that she seems so afraid of him _**now**_.  
In his _**human**_ form...

Then, he realizes, he knows exactly why.

And now isn't really the best time anyway, and so he pledges himself to push down his impatience, and wait.  
But it's oh so hard with Ellie Mills and the truth itself right there on the other side of a glass wall where he can see it, but he can't reach out and actually touch it, and it's killing him.

He wonders how she ever did it herself.  
The waiting, he means.

"Are you an alien?"

The sudden question breaks him out of his thoughts.

"...What?"

The old man stands there, pausing in sweeping up debris to lean against his broom.  
"You know, from outer space. An alien. I didn't mention it in front of your girl in case she didn't know, but I saw you last night. The whole thing. Fell right through the ceiling, big and green and wearing nothing but your birthday suit..." And then, he pauses to readjust his hat before asking the question again. "So, are you an alien?"

Banner sighs then, because 'extraterrestrial being' is something he's never gotten before, but that doesn't make it any less depressing to hear than 'monster' or 'creature' or even, god forbid, 'demon'.

"No...No, i'm not- i'm not an alien." he mumbles.

"Well then, son, you got a condition."

Apparently, this security guard isn't one to mince his words.  
And, taken back once again at his directness, Banner doesn't know what to say to that unblinking statement except, "Yeah. Yeah, I know..." But then, he recovers, remembers the man's previous words, and adds, for good measure, "Oh, and, uh, my friend over there, she...already knows, by the way..."

"She knows?" the man echoes, bushy brows flying up in surprise.

"Yeah."

For a second, the man squints up at the ceiling. "Huh..."  
And Banner inwardly cringes, waiting for the inevitable judgement that he's expected all along for _**someone**_, at last, to show. But, after a moment, the man only shrugs.  
"Well, lucky for you then." he says brightly. He nods in her direction. "Must be one helluva lady."

Banner nearly scoffs in disbelief.  
_...You, too?_

But then, as he watches Simza, currently talking furiously into an earpiece with a business frown etched into her damaged features, determined and ready despite all the danger she's ever had to face, he softens. Because he knows it too.

"Yeah..." he agrees. "Lucky for me..."

The old man grins. Then, sets his broom aside, hobbles on his way, and disappears through a door off to the side. Before Bruce can wonder why, however, Simza returns, marching back over with a set jaw.

"...We should get going." is the first thing she says.

"What? I can't exactly go out with no clothes on, Simza. And you've got a-" Banner breaks off then, and when he continues, his voice is much quieter. "-SHIELD emblem right there on your arm."

Self-consciously, her hand clamps down over the armband on her borrowed uniform.  
"I know..." Simza sighs. "But we can't stay here. Tony's figured out where Loki's gonna hit. Or he thinks he has, at least. Anyway, thanks to the damage, the Helicarrier has done a lot of drifting and they won't actually get there until sometime tomorrow, but they want us to stand-by near Stark Tower, just in case."

"...Stark Tower?" Banner repeats. "That's where it's gonna happen?"

She nods.

"And...you want me to go with you?"

Simza hesitates. Then, her eyes find his reluctantly, and she nods again.

He swallows, hard, in disappointment.

"You want me to fight..." he mumbles.  
His gaze turns dejectedly to the floor and at that, Simza's eyes widen. Immediately, she shakes her head, and just for that second, the wall comes down and is replaced with a sense of pure care, pure concern, for him instead.

"Oh, no. No, Bruce, no. Of course not. Not if that's something that you don't want." she promises earnestly, gripping his hand out of instinct. He looks at her, surprised, but she hasn't even noticed the automaticity of her own actions and after a slow sigh, she merely continues quietly,  
"...But I have to. I learned that yesterday..."

...'Yesterday'...  
When he could have killed a good hundreds of people, rendering the entire Avengers initiative moot and allowing for Loki to doom the world.  
'Yesterday.'  
When a mere bomb set him shaking on his hands and knees because for once, he let his guard down, and somehow forgot that all he knows how to do is destroy everything he touches.  
'Yesterday.'  
When Ellie Mills and Simza Sterling both should have learned that he is a lost cause; should have learned to fear him for good...

And instead, she learned to fight.

How is that possible?...  
Banner wants to ask, but is suddenly much too distracted by the aching sight of their battered hands, her fingers clinging lightly to his in the space between them, to think. And of course, that and his silence only draw Simza's attention, too.

Timidly, she pulls away and the barrier is back, her voice carefully controlled and distant.  
But the longer she talks, the more she falls apart until it's all just a rambled, scattered mess of: "Uh...And!...And the thing is, Stark would miss you, of course, and after last night, we're a couple of people down anyway and so, what i'm saying is that, well," Simza pauses to bite at her lips. And the rest of it comes out in a whisper so vulnerable, so hopeless, it kills him. "if you decided that you _**wanted**_ to come, I can't say that..." She swallows a lump in her throat. "that...I wouldn't...prefer it..."

He doesn't want to hurt her; not anymore than he already has. But this?...

Bruce lets out a sigh, completely at a loss, and for awhile, they remain at a silent impasse.

"You know-" a voice suddenly cuts in.

Both Banner and Simza jump ten feet, then whirl around to find the old man once again standing right there, less than a foot away.

They don't know when he came back, but how much did he hear?...

They cringe as they soon find out: all of it.

"I'd expect some confusion of the mind, since your body's kind of...all over the place." the man says, nodding towards Banner. "...But, whatever it is you're trying to decide," and here, he gives him a meaningful look as he passes over a folded pair of pants and a shirt. "it's gotta be one or the other. Can't keep running between two answers, son."

And hadn't _**that** _always been exactly his problem?...  
Only now this is about something much, much bigger than just one woman, no matter how important she may be to him.  
Banner looks down at the clothing in his hand. Then, begins to dress with a sigh.

"...I know where I can do the most good." Banner murmurs to no one and everyone. "But it's also where I can do the most harm..."

The guard merely shrugs.  
"Well, that's no different from anybody else."

And hadn't _**that** _always been exactly what Simza had been trying to tell him?...

And suddenly, the answer is so obvious that the choice practically makes itself.  
Because Thor had been right. And it is, indeed, much easier to believe that in a fight with two conflicting sides composed of only him vs. the rest of the world, the rest of the world might be right after all.  
Stubborn as he is, it only just took about half of that world to convince him of it, apparently...

Banner shakes his head with a short laugh.

He may come to regret this decision some day. The way he has so many before him.

But, maybe, just like with hiding, acceptance came easier with time, too.

To whit: six years ago, the more Banner ran away, the easier it became. And now, the more he does the opposite, the more he just..._**stays**_, he realizes, the more he finds himself aching to do that instead.

Like a flood. Like an addiction.  
One step out of the shadows first, one taste of light, and then, he wants more so fast and so bad that he's willing to do what he never could before.

And so, he decides that just for now, he'll throw away all the cynicism and put his whole heart into just hoping for the best; no room for doubt.  
He'd already started that with Simza, after all. Why not go the whole mile?

Just this once.  
Just to see how it all pans out...

Banner's hand balls into a determined fist.  
"I'll go." he says quietly.

Simza stares.  
"You...You will?"

The old security guard smiles, then gives a satisfied nod before he picks up his broom and shuffles off again, and Banner turns to her in full.

"...I will." he promises.

Once the surprise wears off completely, Simza has to bite down on her lip to keep from grinning like a damned fool. And that, if nothing else, helps Banner to feel all the more certain that the choice he made was a good one.

"So then...I guess the question becomes 'what now'?" Simza presses.

He nods, and they ponder that for a long while. But then, out of nowhere, Banner can see an idea start to form, however reluctantly, across the features of her cut and bruised face.

"You know," she starts slowly. "I...might just have an idea about that..."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks. "What?"

And at that, she finally gives him a sort-of-sardonic smile and says the one thing he never expected he'd ever hear:

"...What do you say you and I take a trip down memory lane?..."

* * *

'Memory lane', or so she'd said.  
But the entire way, Simza Sterling is silent as the grave, always hobbling just a step ahead and out of reach, teeth gritted against the pain of her wounds and eyes trained intently on the sidewalk before her.  
And, god, every part of her body aches and her ankle is screaming in protest with every step that she takes. But despite even that, it still feels like something from a dream, leading him back here...

The same streets, the same alleys, the same shops across the road. The same feelings as then, too, only stronger this time because here they are,_** together**_, and this time she's only herself, Simza Sterling, like she's wanted for so long and he knows that she's here and alive, that he didn't kill her, but-...

But...

At the same time, there's...a sinking feeling of doom and gloom somewhere in her that far overshadows anything...good.

Banner hasn't mentioned a word of it. Yet.

But Simza just knows it'll come up again sooner or later and when it does, she'll finally have to face the awful, awful truth.  
And she wants to. Really, she does.  
It's just- she just-...needs some time to...**_think _**first.

Because this isn't at all what she imagined it might be like when he finally found out. And, yeah, it wasn't like she had exactly planned out to the letter what it was that she **_did_** expect to begin with, but she knows one thing: in her head, it wasn't like this. It wasn't oh-so-casually revealed to her right before an explosion and a free-dive and a night sleeping on a rock mountain beside a naked man all the while nursing a bad leg that's still hurting like a thousand hells with a new gaping rip in her sleeve where a SHIELD emblem should be.

Or...maybe that's all an excuse.  
And the truth of it is that, really, at the heart of it all, she's just...scared. Scared and embarrassed.

He's likely already formed his own assumptions after all, so what else can she say?  
How else can she possibly justify all the lies, the secrets, the tricks, in a way that can make him understand it was never what she wanted? That despite how they met, she meant it when she said that...she cared about him?

...Should she even?

Simza sighs.

Of course not. What a stupid thing to think; to want to protect her pathetic self from all of the anger and disappointment that's just one big conversation with Banner away...

Frustrated, she grabs a lock of hair, tugging it despairingly over her stupid, lying mouth.  
Then, she continues forward, limping step-by-step with a deep frown etched into her face, clutching her walking stick in hand.

Behind her, Banner is too lost in gazing around at the streets to notice her inner turmoil.

Because these streets are...looking more and more familiar with each step that he takes, but there's no way that they could be going back _**there**_, he thinks, and so he isn't prepared at all when they take a turn at the corner and like a bolt from the blue, there it stands...

His breath catches in his throat.

And it feels like something from a dream for him too. Or maybe a nightmare.  
Banner can't quite tell which as he stands there, frozen, staring dumbly at a single building, even as people on a busy street keep bumping and nudging him out of their way with irritated rolls of their eyes.  
Even so, he thinks he'll never be able to look away, but then-

"Hey Bruce!" a voice says.

He jumps at the first time he's heard that voice the whole long walk here.

"You coming with, or...?" Simza prompts.

When he catches sight of her, she's already holding the door open, looking back over her shoulder at him with a concerned frown, as if this isn't the very thing he's only both dreamed of and had nightmares of doing a countless number of times in his years and years of restless sleeps in India and Canada and everywhere else: coming back.

Still, he takes a breath to steady himself.  
"Yeah. I'm...uh, right behind you." he calls.

Together, they shuffle into the lobby, then take the elevator up and up and up each floor, and with every time the bright red number above the sliding door changes, the pulsing of his heart grows irrationally quicker and his stomach drops and gets sicker and sicker until he thinks he may pass out altogether until-

_ding!_

The comically bright chime signaling their arrival at their destination brings him back.

They get off, turn down the hall, and then, before he's ready, they stop before a familiar white door and the memories hit him so hard and fast Banner's shaking. He has to take a moment before he even feels ready to_** think** _about walking in.

Not Simza.

She just limps right up to the door, slides up a metal cover to a black contraption where there used to be a plain tumbler lock, and presses her finger to the screen.

_Beep!  
_The door clicks open. And then just as soon,

"Home sweet home." Simza sighs bitterly.

And the door slams into the opposite wall again as she bangs it open, and the first thing she does is limp her way to the counter and pop some damned pills from one of the many bottles scattered around the place, leaving him completely alone in the doorway.  
As she goes on the prowl for some water next, Banner lets out an unsteady breath. Then, takes just one slow, reverent step inside, not even knowing what to expect, but when he does-

He gasps.

...

_Oh..._

He...He isn't quite sure what to say...

Because it's a very odd scene that greets him- a curious mish-mash of two opposite half rooms crammed together into one that just doesn't look at all...right.

The left side is the old. A dusty nightmare picture preserved perfectly in place.  
There, by the window, the splintered remains of an armchair. There, strewn across the floor, a bunched up blanket which is lying beside an old pillow which is lying beside a tattered book. There, beside the ruins of a kitchen table, are the shards of an empty wine bottle from a brand that is all too familiar to him. (Because that was the bottle he chose to house a rose.)  
The bedroom door's shut, there's rust on the knob, and it's like...the room, the whole place, hasn't been touched in years. Like everything's been on pause 'til the second he got here.

And then, there are things about the place that are strangely different.

The right side is the new. New, but no better.  
Especially the corner that used to be a kitchen that now only holds a single cot and an array of junk-piled electronics and bottles of medicines and all sorts of other scattered supplies that make it look more like a war zone than any home he ever knew. There are papers scattered all over the floor. And bandages. And bullets- proof of some half-life existence made of equal parts life-threatening action and bone-seeping exhaustion, and even with the bright, hopeful rays of sun streaming in through the window, everything somehow looks only more worn and faded and lonely in the light.

The inside of his stomach churn- in both hopeless longing for those past days once again, and in guilty despair at what the dilapidated state of this all-important place tells him about Simza Sterling as he takes it in.

And how could it not have occurred to him before?...  
That after he left, and through all his miserable nights of drifting and running and punishing himself, of thinking the name Bruce Banner was forgotten- of_** hoping**_ it was, and yet...also, deep in his heart of hearts, hoping that, really, it wasn't...there was someone out there- well, someone in _**here**_, who...

"Alright. So here's the pla-" Simza starts, finally turning to him after having chugged down an entire bottle of water.

When she notices him studying the room with such attention, however, she swallows her words and begins to fidget with the cap nervously.

"I-I...never got around to cleaning. That's all this is." she fumbles. "I know it's messy, sorry. I only really come back here between jobs and I do have other places rented out, but-"

"But you're still here, too...Why?"

He knows the answer, but he asks her anyway.

Simza blinks, taken back both by the question and by the way in which Banner's dark eyes settle on her and they're softer and sadder than anything she's seen. And being looked at like that, god, it hits so hard, that she just can't help it.  
"Because..." she starts, almost subconsciously.

He waits.

But then, in that second of silence, she thinks about how pathetic this must all seem to him, turns her eyes to the floor, and just shakes her head.  
"...It doesn't matter..." she mutters.

And with that, she's skirting around him and rummaging through a pile of belongings next to the cot in silence, giving a humiliated sigh that sounds so much like the one she gave that morning of pancakes and newspapers and disaster.

Banner knows now that he's given her some wounds that have yet to heal.  
He also knows that it's selfish to want to hear it in her own words; that she'd been waiting for him. To come back home...

But he regrets now more than ever that he never did.  
Not even to pay his proper respects to a woman who had, by his previous knowledge, died at his own hands.

The thing is, he'd just never been strong enough...  
Until now.

"S-" he starts.

"So here's the plan." Simza says over him. She shoots him a pleading look that says, 'Please. Not now.' and continues, "We grab some clothes, some money, some weapons, and we head out." she says. She tosses a pack at him suddenly. "Here. Anything in the apartment's fair game."

And after just another moment of considering his best move, Banner gives in.  
She needs time. Which they're running short of, true.  
But even still, he knows he owes her this much at the very least.

When he nods obediently, she visibly relaxes, and through the next half hour, she's mostly silent as Simza tries to sort through her thoughts all the while stuffing a million different things into one giant-sized backpack, and Banner does the same.

She only says one thing as they work and when she does, she never takes her eyes off of the tube of antiseptic in her hand.  
"Once we've done what we need to do," she murmurs. "i'll tell you anything you want to know...Fair?"

"Yeah...Fair." Banner answers.  
It's more than fair.

And now, he has things he wants so desperately to tell her too.  
He can only hope his words will be enough to fill in some of the gaping holes he's left in her life.

Before they leave the place behind for good, Simza stops and for a long moment, she just stands there staring at the shut apartment door with a complicated mix of emotions that Banner can't even begin to cipher through. But amidst all of the other unnameable faces, he thinks he sees one that he **_does_** recognize, and it's...of simple resignation.

Because so much happened here...  
And now, they may never be coming back.

Somehow, some way, they need to be okay with that.

Simza presses her hand against the familiar grain of the white, painted wood just one last time and lets out a quiet sigh.

Then, just as soon, she whirls on her heel.  
And without once turning back, she limps off towards the elevator with a clenched fist and strong eyes determined to leave her memories where they belong.

"Let's go..." she says.

There's a good part of Banner that doesn't want that, to be honest...  
What he wants, is to stay right here, in fact, and just do it all over- the jokes, the coffee, the dance, the kiss- until he gets everything perfect and this time, he doesn't leave her, doesn't reject her, doesn't hurt her...

But then again, he realizes, doing that would mean he might never have met Simza Sterling as herself.  
Just Ellie Mills.  
And for him now, that could never be enough.

Because it's Simza Sterling, the agent, that he owes his life to. It's Simza Sterling, the Powered, always watching over him, keeping him safe even from himself, who has given him more than he ever deserved.  
And it's Simza Sterling, the real person- the info broker, the joker, the occasional liar, the stressed, hard-pressed, distressed mess, that he intends to pay all of that care back to.  
And only exactly as the woman she chooses to be.

And so, six years later and there in that same hall, Buck Starch faces the ghost of Ellie Mills at last.  
He thanks her for all she's done, apologizes for the things he couldn't, and, in that moment, he finally says his goodbyes...

And then, like, Agent Simza Sterling herself, Bruce Banner finally buries what needs to be buried, and when he steps into the elevator a short while later, he thinks he can hear the _tick, tick, ticking _of a far-off, once-frozen clock, finally starting to inch its way slowly forward.

* * *

Banner and Simza make their way from one city to the next, following a tiring pattern of subway, taxi, and then, subway again, until they emerge from underground and they can just see the Stark building looming over them along with the rest of the hundred other skyscrapers in the distance, still none rising as high as that one pristine tower built from the ground up with its tasteful lines of alternating white and glass, working back downwards from the narrow penthouse, to the signature curve of the protruding party deck, to the great wide base of the building.

Simza's feet come to a slow halt as she takes the scope of it in.

And for a moment, both of them forget their awkward attempts at small-talk and the strange, unsubtle verbal dance of two of the perhaps most socially inept people on Earth trying to figure out which topics of conversation are yet on and off limits.  
And all the long day they've been doing their fair share of fidgeting, of shuffling, of clearing their throats with little 'ahem's and 'so...'s.

But right now? Right now, in this second, all of that is done and forgotten, thank heavens.

And instead, they're just...floored.

"Geez. Almost forgot how big it was..." Simza mumbles, squinting up at the gleaming letters 'S-T-A-R-K'.  
Beside her, Banner nods.  
"Yeah, wow, it's...uh, really something..." he agrees, in awe.

It's the first time he's ever **_seen_** it in real life. And for a second, he bothers to wonder if something like this is what he could have built for himself, given his own knack for science, if only he were also just a man in a metal suit instead of 'the other guy'.  
_  
No, Banner..._  
_Stop it._

He sighs.  
Because he isn't sure why, but thinking about what he _**might**_ have been?...  
Well, it starts a pang of some emotion familiar and awful in his chest that he doesn't exactly like.

"Also, I forgot how crowded it was..." Simza's suddenly nervous voice continues, breaking him from his thoughts.

"What?" he says.

She nods anxiously towards the constant flow, the constant exchange, of a hundred new faces for old in their expansive field of view and as they stand there, in the center of an ocean of people completely dwarfed by the titan shadows of the sky-high buildings around them, suddenly, he sees what she means.

It's terrifying:

Who they are. What they are.  
What they know that the other thousands of people around them don't; the thousand of people around them who, they are just now struck with the visceral realization, are so ridiculously oblivious and fragile and whom _**they**_, two more mere tired, anonymous faces in the crowd, have somehow been charged with saving...

It seems a herculean task.  
Monumental. Impossible. And frightening.  
And, unknowingly, their bodies draw further and further from the outside threats of failure, and only edge closer to each other instead, as they begin to steep in their own age-old worries and regrets that was all they had before they'd met again.

That is when their shoulders bump.  
And their faces turn and they blink, all startled, suddenly realizing that the other is there:

Banner's dark, wide eyes stare down into hers, impossible curl of brown hair sweeping onto his forehead. There are creases in his brow, his lips are slightly parted in surprise, his heavy chest struggles for a clear breath, as he fights through all his thoughts.

She can read his pained gaze so easily.

And so, desperate as always to ease this one, honestly good man's fear, Simza's hand lifts towards him all on its own. But then, remembering herself, she pulls back and hesitates, asking his permission with a timid look.

He can only blink, once...

She just barely touches her warm hand against the side of his rough cheek.

And all at once, relief rushes in and his stopped up air rushes out; the tension stops, his heart slows down, and the rest of the world goes so wonderfully quiet...

For both of them.  
Because there, just inches away, they remember, is someone else whose eyes mirror every dark fear they'd so foolishly thought they would have to face alone.  
And...desipte it all, Simza now thinks she might just find a way to..._**like**_ the feeling of him knowing; knowing and, this time, having the power to accept or reject for himself everything her touch can do.

Another second passes as they wait for the feelings to subside.

Then, Simza offers up an inquisitive smile.  
And now recovering from an overwhelming, dizzying rush, Banner just about manages a wry one back with a few attempts at a reassuring nod to relieve her of a worry she didn't even think to have.

_I'm okay. I'll be fine.  
I'm not going anywhere.  
_  
It's the best he can do, but to her, that's still more than he's ever done before and out of nowhere, she's hit with the most devastating swell of affection right in her chest as she looks at him.

Because with him, things have never been even close to perfect and the dangers are always there, but now, she knows. Now, her long years of blind faith haven't been for nothing and she's finally seeing the proof:  
That in the end, together- them and all of the others, they'll make things come out right.

Rogers wasn't entirely wrong, after all-  
Stark may not be a hero exactly. None of them are.  
But if there's one thing Simza's learned, it's that 'heroes' can't always do the things that need to be done.

No...  
Sometimes, it has to be no one else but them: the alien, the narcissist, the relic, the killer, the 'monster', the redeemer, and her...  
The disaster.  
Just a bunch of misfits who, in a weird way, fit in place just fine with each other.

She thinks it's time they acknowledged that.

And so...

"...Hey...Bruce..." Simza starts, very quietly.

"Yeah?" he answers, just as gently.

"...I-..."  
_  
Plip!_

As an unexpected drop of wet startles them out of the moment, there's comes another _plop!_

And then, a _drip, drip, drop!_ and all at once, that turns into the steady_ pitter-patter_ of fat drops of heavy summer rain hitting the pavement, and inwardly, Banner groans.  
Just another interruption.

She obviously feels the same way as she lets out a sigh and an "Oh. Perfect."

Nevertheless...

"Come on. We can figure our next step under the eaves of that shop over there." Banner suggests. He grips her elbow and together, they take off into a sort of half-jog, quarter-limp for the safety of the overhang.

Once they get there, Simza sighs again, brushing off what rain she can, but mostly, it's useless. She's already practically soaked through and through, and so is he.  
And in the city, one-by-one, umbrellas of all different colors and patterns pop into existence and they bloom and blossom like spring flowers right before their eyes under a dreary backdrop of deep green trees and bleak gray city pavement and sky.

Despite themselves, it's kind of a pretty sight. And Banner hopes it's enough for the spell to remain unbroken, but...

"Well...I, um, guess we should start by finding a place to stay the night." Simza says, hurriedly moving on to business and already embarrassed, he can tell, that she nearly got caught up in the moment.

Reluctantly, he agrees. And then, for the next few minutes...

"Let's see..." Simza murmurs to herself, tapping her phone against her chin absently as she thinks. "What's around here?...I think there was a- no, that was in Queens. Then, maybe a-? No, that was Westchester...or...was that-?..."

After another good minute of waffling, Banner decides it's time to intervene.  
"Hey, uh, tell me if i'm wrong, but if Loki's target is Stark tower, wouldn't it be a better idea to...you know, stay inside the tower?..."

She just flashes a wry smile in reply.  
"Yeah. But Pepper Potts? On a plane. Out of town."  
When she sees Banner's questioning look, she goes on to explain, "When we were working together, she got into some trouble. I helped her. Asked if I could keep her on my radar after, and she agreed. And right now, my radar," Simza says, digging an oddly shaped handheld out of her back pocket and flashing the screen towards him. There's a red dot blinking somewhere over Portugal. "says that she's away on business."

"And that's a problem because?..." Banner presses, not understanding.

"It's a problem because, after my falling out with Tony, she's the only one with clearance to let me enter the tower." Simza says.

"Oh..."

"Yeah...It was meant to be more of a petty show of spite than anything. I doubt Stark ever thought he'd have to see me again..." she muses, over the sound of the steadily falling rain. "I tried to page him about it while you were sleeping in the cab, but, as my luck would have it, it's dead."

"What is?"

She frowns as if the answer is obvious.  
"The transceiver. Out of range, or out of power, or- I don't know. Point is, it isn't working."

"Oh..." he echoes uselessly. Then, Banner lets out a grand sigh. "...You really weren't kidding when you warned me to let him down easy." he quips, running a hand through his damp hair.

"I really wasn't." Simza agrees with a bitter laugh. Then, "Anyway, if memory serves me correctly, there's a pretty decent hotel just on the next block. We should go there for now. Are you ready to make a run for it?" she asks, already preparing for the sprint by hoisting up her backpack.

But, "...Are you?..." Banner returns quickly, nodding towards her ankle.

"Huh- Er...Oh..." Her hands come to a stop. "Guess not..." she mumbles.

Then, suddenly dejected, her whole body slumps and she lets out a great big heavy groan, endlessly frustrated with her usual turn of bad luck; the one that's plagued her for what feels like her whole damned life, and, then, "What the hell did I ever do to you?" she gripes to the sky before she can stop herself.

Banner raises a brow in her direction, deeply amused, but Simza doesn't notice.

She's too busy drawing in a deep, calming breath that doesn't actually calm her at all.  
She turns to him again.

"Ready to make a _**walk** _for it then?" she corrects herself pointedly. She snorts. "In the lovely summer rain?..."

Banner chuckles, kind of glad to see that old expressiveness again- only, without any guises this time.

And at the sound of his laugh, Simza eyes him suspiciously, first. But then, seeing the gentle lines of his smile, she finally softens, soothed by the familiarity of his old mild-mannered nature, too.

What can she say?  
Despite it all, it's good to be _**them**_ again.

"I'm ready." Banner says.

"Alright then. Come on." Simza says with a bit of a grimace. "Time for a shower."

They duck out of safety back into the storm.

_Drip, drop, drip..._

And as they go, the even fall of summer rain keeps a steady count of the seconds that remain until the aged, crimson blood on their hands will finally run down the city streets, into the gutters, and be swept away for good.  
And all of the parts of them that remain and everything else between them will finally be made, like the city, to be washed clean. Pure.

New.

* * *

_I'm sorry ya'll. I'm just...sorry.  
I have no words or explanation for this sorry excuse for a chapter...  
Oh lawd..._


	13. The People That They Came To Be

_Okay, so I feel like this is more of a beta version than the final? Cause I just know i'm gonna have to revise this chapter...  
It took me FOUR whole months to try and work out the how the conversation would go and in the end, it's still...like this and-  
Oh, fudge me. Just...Here it is, you guys...  
I hope you enjoy it...  
But if you don't, just let me know (nicely please, because i'm the most sensitive loser on the planet) and i'll be more than happy to fix it up!_

_Also, thank you for the reviews, follows, etc. They mean a lot, a lot, a LOT to me. Really. Like, i'd be a sobbing mess without them. I'm a sobbing mess even with them.  
Basically, i'm always crying.  
Anyway, i'll be in my corner blushing about the embarrasing trash i've written..._

_The next chapter shouldn't take an ETERNITY to update like this one did since I already have parts and pieces of it. But thank you for your patience, ya'll!_

* * *

As _**both**_ their terrible luck would have it, in fact, they don't end up at the 'pretty decent hotel' at all.  
Instead, when the sun begins to dip down below the horizon, it's a somewhat rundown commercial inn a good fifteen minute drive from the city that they wind up staying at.  
Still, it seems reasonably clean despite the suspiciously shaky stairs and overly friendly, possibly entirely too lonely, front desk clerk, and they're both tired as all hell, so they give up and figure that this will have to do for today.

They pay up, take a chance on the stairs, and walk until they get to a room '307'.

Simza fits the key into the lock and opens the door to garish red-brown carpets, a single bed smack-dab in the center of the room, and one plain wooden table and two chairs placed beside a window shadowed with heavy maroon drapes. The warm-toned wallpaper is peeling and when she goes to switch on the only lamp in the cramped room, it flickers and statics twice before it finally casts a half-hearted dim, copper glow around the immediate area.

Not exactly a cheery omen, Simza notes to herself as she locks the door behind them. But then again, they're not exactly the cheeriest sight themselves either- damp hair clinging to their necks and foreheads, wide eyes gaunt and exhausted, a pathetic limp and stagger from the overwhelming exhaustion.

They're a sweet, Southern Jul-y mess.

Well, that's what the woman at the front desk had said, anyway. With an unexpected Georgia twang and a grandma's smile as Simza had stepped forward to pay, leaving Banner waiting in an armchair in the lobby and trailing after her with his eyes where he couldn't with his feet.

As she catches her reflection in the glaring black TV screen on top the dresser now, she lets out a sigh.

"'Mess' might have been putting it too kindly..." she mumbles.  
Self-consciously, she lifts a hand to smooth down a lock of stray, wet hair amongst all the other unruly tangles. But then-

"Here." a voice says, startling her from the terror that is her own reflection.

She jumps. But when she looks, it's only Banner standing there, having reappeared from the bathroom with two towels, one of which he's holding out to her.  
And suddenly, she's inexplicably embarrassed that he caught her trying to improve upon the hopeless wreck that she looks like.

She's blushing as she takes the towel from him.  
"Thanks..."

"Yeah...No problem." he answers.

For awhile, they dry themselves off in silence: her, on the bed, him, at the table. And the slight fluffing and ruffling of clothing and the tousling of hair are the only two sounds in the room.

...

...

"...You know, I, uh, still think we should have stopped by a hospital, Simza?..." Banner finally says, breaking the silence that's been suffocating the room.

Simza's shoulders visibly relax at the words, grateful to have something to talk about, even if it is only a rehash of a little tiff they'd gotten into on the way here.

"If we had done that, who knows where we'd be staying tonight?" she says.

"Probably nowhere worse..." he quips with a shrug and a smirk.

She laughs, knowing he's probably right. But still...

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but i've dealt with a lot worse than this before. Trust me. I'll be fine." she says. Then, she cheerily rolls her shoulders, swings her arms, twists her torso, to prove it as she rambles on. "See? And besides, i've been through jobs where I had to keep running and shooting with practically any kind of injury you can think of and I haven't keeled over dead yet. I mean, i'm not gonna say that I haven't come close, but-"

Banner's jaw clenches in guilt at those words and immediately,

_Oops._  
Wrong choice of words, Simza realizes, cutting herself off with a wince.

She chews on the inside of her cheek, and just as soon as the awkward tension has begun to fade, she shuts down again.

It's been like this all day:  
Step 1. Tip-toe ever-so-carefully around in safe little conversation circles.  
Step 2. Every once in awhile, accidentally stomp and trample all over each other's toes. (Because, oops. You're bad at words.)  
And Step 3. Delicately trying to cover it all up and pretend it never happened. (Because oh, right. You're also bad with people.)  
Then repeat.  
Repeat, repeat, repeat.

He sighs.

And then, the last of the aforementioned three steps is what Banner chooses to do now.  
He knows she's trying hard enough to come to terms with her thoughts anyway and, really, maybe tensing up at every mention of the past isn't the best way to get her talking.

And so, he forces the tensed muscles in his face to relax and,  
"...Will you at least let me take a look at it?" he asks.

"Uh..."

He waits.

She nods.  
Probably more out of a sense of unease with the prospect of him gazing at her and waiting for an answer than anything else.

Still, he puts his hand on her waist and gently leads her towards a chair.

Surprisingly, Simza lets him. And she's suddenly too preoccupied with staring down at Banner's hand resting on her hip, at the very fluttering, unexpected sight of it all, that she doesn't snap to attention again until Banner politely seats her...

And then suddenly comes around again and crouches down right before her feet.

One of his hands finds its way to the top of her right knee and he leans in to cradle the injured leg and pull it forward in a much more intimate way than she's used to seeing him act.

Despite herself, red flushes her cheeks.

"Y-You really don't have to-" she starts.

But just as soon as her protests have started, Banner is hanging back again, setting her leg in his lap with a light touch and careful fingers, and she goes stiff as stone instead.

He can practically feel her nerves as her hands grip the edge of her seat.

Despite himself, he peeks a glance at her face with a reassuring smile.

"I'm gonna take your shoe off now. That alright, Simza?..." he asks.

"Huh- Uh...I...guess?" she stammers in a rush, flustered by the sudden question.

He chuckles.

And then slowly, so as not to startle her with any sudden movements, his calloused fingers travel up from the bottom of her shoe, across the criss-crossed laces to undo the front knot of her boots.  
Checking to see she's always okay with a look, he works gently and efficiently, pulling it loose with a single long tug and then loosening the ties until he can work the shoe off, back-and-forth, carefully, so that it doesn't come in contact with her wound when it finally slips off.

She breathes a small sigh of relief. No pain.

But now, it's his battle.

Banner rolls up the hem of her pants neatly.  
Then, his hand lingers at the back of her heel and goes still, just for a moment...  
before he grits his teeth and just goes for it, decisively peeling off her sock to finally reveal, close-up, what damage he's caused on a somewhat small, bruised, and blistered foot.

But, oh...

Thank Thor.

It doesn't look anything as bad as what he'd dredged up in the gloomy depths of his imagination, especially after a day's worth of hard traveling.

In fact, it somehow looks even less swollen than before.  
Perhaps the long awkward periods of sitting in cabs and subways and making small talk were good for something then.

Suddenly, small toes wriggle and curl shyly under his too-long gaze and, his attention once again caught, he chuckles.

Better get on with it.

Tentatively, he places his hand on the swollen flesh to feel for the breaks when almost immediately-

"Ooh!..." Simza flinches.  
He yanks his hand away.

Then, carefully, places his fingers back against her: a faint warmth, hardly even a touch this time.

"...Here?" asks Banner.

Teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, she nods, and then, he proceeds more gently with his poking and prodding and guided turns and flexes until, finally, a few minutes later, the examination is done and he lowers her foot back onto the ground.

"Well, uh...You've got a few fractures, it looks like..." Banner says. "The rest of it is mostly just bruising and swelling. Should go down with some ice. I'd tell you not to walk on it for awhile, but I don't think we really have that option so just, uh...be careful when you can. And here, I don't normally like to say this, but painkillers are gonna be your best friend for the next day, alright?"

He hands her a bottle which he's fished out of his backpack, and she grimaces, but takes it.  
"Thanks, doc."

He nods.  
"Sure. Oh, and, uh, after the whole...Loki thing, Simza, maybe take my advice?...Once upon a time, I was an actual doctor, you know. So...go to a hospital. Or a clinic, or...wherever it is that Fury sends his little SHIELD minions when-"

She winces at the bitterness in his tone and, oops.  
This time, it's his mistake.

Not that it's a surprise exactly.  
They've both been making thoughtless mistakes all day, but the score now stands at 12-25 in her favor, if he's been counting correctly.

"...-when they get injured." Banner finishes quietly.

His response is an all-too familiar long pause.

"...I grabbed some supplies from your apartment. I'll help you set it..." he sighs.

They don't say much else as he dabs some antiseptic on the cuts and scrapes, then wraps it all carefully in a bandage.

They don't say much else as he watches her prepare her things for the next day: guns and grenades and a whole slew of other things, all lined up in a row.

They don't say much else as they pick at a pizza in the confines of their dingy room and it's finally late night and the world is, once again, dark.

They've done their parts: played and, in fact, _**out**_played them all throughout the day, trying so hard to be friendly, amiable, conversational, and act like they can just stay calm and be professional when, really, their feelings, the aftermath of a time-bomb implosion a half-decade in the making, are all still smoldering just underneath the surface.

As hungry as they are, focusing on food is...hard. And Simza's barely eaten one slice before she calls it quits and escapes to the bathroom with the excuse of taking a shower.

In her absence, Banner breathes a sigh of relief, trying to think, too, over the muffled sound of a steady stream of water and light movement from the other side of a shabby door.  
But just a short fifteen minutes later, that door opens again and a billow of steam rolls out into the open as she rejoins him, freshly dressed in her torn SHIELD uniform which she obviously intends to sleep in.

"You can go ahead now." she says, not meeting his eyes.

And, resigned to her avoidance, Bruce simply trudges into the bathroom for his turn.  
Once the door is shut behind him, he turns the handle to start the shower and peels away at his heavy layers clothing as he waits for the water to warm.

It doesn't take very long.  
And once he's ready, he steps quickly inside, and almost sighs as a thousand lukewarm drops of water run in rivulets down his skin, collecting his confusion, his hesitance, his fear together- everything that isn't good or important, and slowly washes those bad feelings, even if just temporarily, away.

Of course, **_some_ **of the worry still remains.

But, now it isn't so bad.  
Because it occurs to him then, at the strangest moment, in the strangest way, how nice it actually feels to be fretting to himself over what to do, how he should act around her, all over again.

Bruce runs a hand through his wet tangle of hair and chuckles.

Then, _I can do this..._, he tells himself.

He can do this.  
Even if, once he steps out of this room, it's back to smiling. Even if it's back to uncomfortable silence, and thin shadows of regret and fear lurking just beneath the surface of their meaningless conversations...

He can.

But, a half hour later, when Banner finally steps out, Simza is...only a lump on the mattress.

The blankets are pulled up high over her head, she's completely still, and the only thing that gives away the fact that she isn't really sleeping is the uneven sound of shaky, fearful breathing that she's working much too hard to control, but can't.

Banner's chest tightens as he watches.

And he doesn't want to force a fragile thing and end up tearing it, and so, instead of pretending, instead of speaking, instead of asking, he just switches all the lights, and sits at the table, and he pieces together what he can of her real life through all the deadly odds and ends gathered there instead.

Her breathing grows more even then.  
More relaxed, as she realizes what it is he's doing for her.  
And there, in the otherwise complete silence of the room, that proof of her relief becomes a strange, calming music that Banner listens to as he clicks through names on a tracking device and examines the wear on handles of knives and about a million other things, until he's grown sleepy too, the pace of their breathing synchronized in perfect time, and he's just sitting there with his eyelids drooping, his cheek resting in his hand.

A slow breath in...

A slow breath out...

Another breath in...

Another breath out...

...A final breath in...

And then, just as he's about to nod off completely...

...

"How long have you known?..."  
The murmur, as soft as it is, cuts through the silence, razor sharp.

Still, it's so unexpected that Banner isn't even sure he's heard it at first.

And so, in the beginning, only his eyes open, curiously wandering around for the source of his disturbed sleep.  
But then, when he sees her, he can suddenly sense the still and subtle change in the air too, and his head lifts, then his shoulders, then his entire body, and all at once, any hint of peace or sleep or sadness blinks into nothing like the night and Banner is wide, wide awake.

"...Did, uh...Sorry, did you just-...?" he asks.

She doesn't say yes.

But she doesn't say no, either.

And after six long years of waiting, of wanting, of trying to forget, of ashamedly grasping on to the long unspeakable story that he'd thought had ended in only horror and tragedy, he is...about to get a second a chance. A different ending.

Maybe he won't like the conclusion.  
But he has no more excuses to arm himself with.  
No more false identity to withdraw into when things start to feel just a little too real.

Both of them now, after a long stretch of six years, they only have the truth.  
But this time, that's exactly what they want.

He takes a deep breath.

So it all boils down to this.

God, where do they even begin?...

Then, Banner thinks, perhaps with the question.

_Alright. Take it slow. Pace yourself._  
_Don't scare her._

Banner swallows the lump in his throat and he tries to seem more composed than he feels when he says, "...Not long. Fury told me after that time we...uh, went at each other on the Helicarrier."

She snorts a bitter laugh at that.  
"Which time?"

He feels just a little bit guilty when he mumbles,  
"...The first."

For a long moment, the lump on the bed doesn't move.  
Then, slowly, slowly, Simza finally sits herself up and, wrapping herself protectively around the shoulders against his impending anger with her blanket, she lifts her eyes to his face.

"So you knew from the beginning..."

"...Pretty much." Banner shrugs.

Simza chews on her lip for a long second.

When she finally speaks, she sighs,  
"...Then I guess there's really nothing more to say."

That, of course, isn't true.  
And Simza offers a sheepish shrug at Banner's raised brow.

"Thought i'd try it at least..." she mumbles with a wince and dry, forced laugh.

An awkward pause.

"So, then...What...What's-"  
She breaks off when a sudden rush of sickness at the realization that this- it's real, it's about to happen- threatens to make her voice crack and her stomach heave like a nervous prepubescent boy's, and it's only after drawing in a long, deep breath that she manages to continue, however shakily.  
"...What's first? What do you want to know? Why I tricked you? How I survived? Why I came back? Why I let you try to convince me I was a good person when, really, i'm a lying liar who lies and who doesn't know when to..."

As she continues on, listing a good hundred of her supposed sins with a sharp self-depricating edge in her tone,  
as she rambles on and on and he listens, trying to pick out question after question, trying to decide which one he should be asking first,  
as she picks and scrapes at all of her wrongs, even ones that Banner had never seen as wrongdoings himself,  
it comes to him.

That at the end of the day, the only thing he knows he wants to say for sure is this:

"...I'm glad you're alive."

Simza goes immediately silent.

He can see the movement of her throat as she swallows a hard lump, so tempted to believe him, but unable to do so because she understands exactly the kind of person she was and is.

And so, after a moment, she merely offers a nervous shrug that she tries to pass off as casual and composed, and says, "...Are you really though? It's my fault you had to run away and- and-"  
And she's just about to start off on another critical rant, but-

"Simza." Banner interrupts.  
He meets her eyes.  
And then, he says again, slowly, deliberately, giving each word their own individual weight,  
"I'm glad you're alive." he repeats.

And then he cracks that kind little smile; the one that's so genuine, but also kind of sheepish and suddenly, it's like everything she's ever been afraid of, everything that's ever stopped her from gathering her courage and just talking to him, is put to rest at that smile.

She doesn't know what to do with the immense relief that she feels and so, her body leaks it out in the form of tears but she sniffs and laughs and turns away and, "Why do you always have to do that?..." she mutters.

Banner frowns.  
"Er...Do what?"

She snorts.  
"That whole, you know, surprise, nice, sweet thing you do." Simza says exasperatedly. "I mean, geez, i'm only human. Go easy on me, will you?..."

Banner scratches his head, trying to hide a sudden blush.  
"Uh. Yeah, i'm not sure what you-...I just- er...What i'm saying is, I just needed you to know that...Before I asked you anything else, Simza..."

_Yes. Very smooth, Banner._

But strangely enough, when he chances a glance at her face, she's smiling.  
A real smile, an affectionate one, finally.

And when she speaks, she says, "Yeah, I know. I know what you're saying, Banner, and...i'm pretty glad that you're alive too."

For another few seconds, they let the good moment linger.  
It's nice to bask in the small victories sometimes, after all, and for the two of them especially, the small victories are all that have been dragging them through one day and into the next, ever since that night they'd been torn apart.

_I didn't have an incident.  
I didn't kill someone._  
_  
I'm not a murderer today._

But now, they're back together.

And almost at the exact same time, they realize that it's time to let the good moment go and fight for something that could be much, much better if only they let it.

"Do you want to come and sit?" Simza asks softly, shifting over on the bed.

Banner nods.

And just like that, with Bruce Banner resting against the footboard, and Agent Sterling leaning against the headboard, they face each other and their knotted questions, and they work to untangle them together.

* * *

"And so that's the sad, tragic little story of a girl named Simza Sterling who, in the span of about half a decade, lost her job, her best friends, her sister, her mom, her sense of morals, and pretty much, well...everything else ever important in life." Simza concludes with a dry laugh, despite a raw throat and red eyes. "Well, except for money. The only thing i'm swimming in besides regret these days is cash."

Despite the obvious forced attempt at humor, he sees the tear-streaked cheeks and Banner knows enough to swallow down the lump in his throat and keep silent.

So instead, he looks down at their clasped hands, gives hers a tight squeeze, and she manages a half-smile in sheepish thanks.

"I never did have the best luck though, so..." she continues. "That was actually kind of my trademark when I worked with SHIELD. Whenever they read through a mission report that went exactly _**not**_ as planned, they knew it was mine. Didn't even have to look at the name, after awhile. They just called me Trick Silver."

"Trick Silver?" Banner echoes.

"They thought they were being funny..." Simza snorts rolling her eyes. "Like, Black Widow, you know? A nickname. A bad one. Get it? 'Cause Simza Sterling as in sterling _**silver**_? And 'trick' cause, well...my life's a big joke, basically."

Suddenly, she looks timid.  
"Er, that's not to say I was terrible at my job or anything. I got all my missions done. It just...usually took a few more steps than it should have is all."

Banner chuckles and nods to reassure her that he doesn't think she's a completely incompetent idiot and she lets out a great big sigh of relief and then eyes him, thoughtfully, for a moment.

"You know, you were technically my first real failure, actually..."

He freezes.  
"Oh. Uh...Sorry." Banner fumbles, at a loss for what else to say.

Her eyes widen at the unintended reaction.  
"Oh. No, that's not- that's not what I-" she trails off into a flustered laugh. Then, takes a breath to try again. "...To be honest, er, what i'm _**trying**_ to say is that...i'm...glad...that I didn't drag you right down into the fiery pits of SHIELD hell with me." she says. "Especially since you obviously didn't want to be there."

Banner flashes her an apologetic smile.  
"I really didn't." he admits.

She laughs and gives him a soft punch in the arm at that.  
"Alright, jerk." she says. "Pace yourself with the honesty there or you're gonna make me cry." she jokes.

He, however, only chuckles and then reaches out to pull some strands of damp hair out of her eyes.  
"Again, you mean." he says gently.

And at that, suddenly, Simza groans in embarrassment. She presses her face into her hands and then,  
"Ugh. Okay. No. No more crying. I hate doing it, most people hate watching it, so let's just..." she takes a deep breath and gives him a look.

"Alright, alright." Banner laughs. "I'm sorry. No more."

Simza nods, satisfied, and then, in a grand symbolic gesture, she gets up on her knees, aims, tosses, and lands a scrunched up ball of tissue right into the trash.

"And...ten points to Sterling. I still got it." Simza says, falling back on the bed with a satisfied smile. "You wanna try taking a shot for yourself, Mr. Banner?" she asks, grandly gesturing to the tissues littered all over the bed.

He chuckles at her same old penchant for games.  
And before he knows it, the words are already out of his mouth:  
"...You know, Simza, I still can't believe I didn't recognize you sooner."

At that, her smile suddenly falters and with a wry smile, she settles back down.

"...Well, why would you?" she shrugs. "I was just some nice girl you thought was dead..."

_Oh. _

And now Banner realizes that even with all of his hopelessly longing looks, his lingering touches, she had never picked up on it at all.  
What had been so obvious to him, the reason he'd pulled away, was, to her, just another reason she'd been afraid...

And so,  
"Simza..." Banner starts cautiously. "While I was with you, did you ever get the feeling that I-...You know?"

She only tilts her head at him, curiously.  
"That you...what?"

At the clearness of her eyes, Banner begins to feel just a bit warm under his collar and he quickly looks away.  
"Nothing." he says. "I just- you, uh, look good by the way. Well, except for the few, you know..."

As soon as he says it, he winces.  
He knows how insulting that might have just sounded. Lucky for him, Simza only snorts.

"Yeah, thanks. Facial reconstruction surgery's come a long way. Still not perfect, though…"

She gestures to the lightning strike scars where they'd pieced her face together, feathered across her cheek and yet again, Banner cringes. Because he was the one who'd done that to her and suddenly, everything he's ever really done wrong, and there were so, so many things, comes flooding his mind all at once.

"...I'm sorry, Simza." he mumbles down to his hands.  
Now, he's dead serious.

"No...No, I-...Gosh, Bruce. You shouldn't be the one to apologize. In fact, aren't you...I mean, angry at all?" she asks. "I mean, you should be. It's why i've...been holding this off for so long. I let them lie to you, Bruce. I let them think that you killed me. But the worst of it was, I let you think I was some good person- Ellie Mills, when, really, Ellie Mills was me and I was going out every night, doing what I do..." She sighs. "I was never who you thought I was. I'm sorry that when you found out, all you got was, well...this." Simza says with a timid little shrug.

Banner winces at the dull pain throbbing in his chest at the words.  
It isn't fair for her to say that...  
Not when she had risked her life twice just for the likes of him.

And so,  
"...Can I ask you something?" Banner asks.

She shrugs her consent.

"Did you know I was lying when we first met?"

"You said your name was 'Buck Starch'. I mean, were you even trying to hide it?" Simza deadpans.

Banner almost chuckles.

It's a fair point, but,  
"No, I mean...When you pulled me from the alley. Did you know who I was?"

"Oh, that. Not at first." Simza says. "I was still trying to figure out what to do with you, actually. That's when I got a notification from SHIELD."

Banner smiles in satisfaction at that.  
"Then, I guess you should say the same about me." he says.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry you saw a man in the alley, and you got the 'other guy' instead..."

Simza blinks in surprise at that.

But then, the sheer truth of the words strikes her dumb and before she knows it, she's laughing. And so is he.

All this time, they'd each been trying to convince themselves that they were so much worse than each other...  
But maybe, the truth was that they were just the same.

No, not exactly.

They were, they _**are**_, something more like...compliments.  
Counterparts.

His empty insides are only brought to life when they're filled by her ridiculous laughter and her jokes and her anger and her brightness.  
And for her, those lonely holes in her life only feel less empty when there's someone gentle and kind to worry and smooth those spaces over.

And so, in a way, right now, they're almost...glad that they are exactly who they are.

It's a funny thing to be feeling after so very long.  
But god, it's a relief to be feeling it at all.  
And, both seeming to somehow just understand the thoughts running through each other's mind, Simza and Banner look at each other and smile.

It's been one hell of a long time coming...But they're proud of each other for having made it.

And, compelled by this new sense of hope, of course, Banner can't help but want to say it.

"There's something else, you know, Simza..." he murmurs, as-a-matter-of-factly.

She only tilts her head at him curiously, eyes glimmering in anticipation of a joke.  
"Yeah? What's that, Mr. Starch?" she answers, playing along.

Banner just chuckles.  
"...You had secrets. Well, I had one too."

Simza tilts her head curiously.

And then, with Banner's heart pounding a hundred miles a minute, he just balls up his hand and...  
says it.

"I loved you...I _**love**_ you."

* * *

For a moment, it's as if the entire world has turned on its head and she can't even comprehend the words that are ringing through her shocked, empty mind.

_What..._

What?

**_What?_**

It just...doesn't match up.

He was always...rejecting her. Cutting her off, shutting her out...  
Even when she was leaving all her cards on the table, practically saying it all the time, just never in words, he hadn't ever shown the slightest hint that he-...

Simza breaks off her thoughts and just takes a deep breath to calm her pounding heart.

Maybe she's just hallucinating...

"I'm sorry...What did you just-...Er. Could you just...say that...again?..." she says, in a small voice.

Banner manages a wry chuckle, but his palms are nearly sweating.  
For a moment, he wonders just how pathetic it must seem for a man his age to be shaking at something so juvenile.  
But then, he takes a deep breath, draws himself up to his full height, and says it again.

"I love you, Simza..."

An eternity passes as she watches him with those wide, wide eyes.  
And the entire time, their hearts are beating loud in their ears, which makes them embarrassed, which makes speechless, which makes their palms sweat, which makes them breathe all shaky, which makes their hands tremble, which only makes them more nervous, which makes etc., etc. and so on.

From somewhere far away, a passing car honks its horn, loud and long, and at the exact same time, Simza and Banner suddenly jump, realize what kind of humiliating thing they're doing, and quickly look away.

As Simza tucks some hair behind her ear though, through a furtive peek, Banner could swear that her cheek is lifted up into an expression not unlike a smile.

And sure enough, after she clears her throat, she looks at him again and-...

"You do?..." she says quietly, biting down on her lip to stifle a grin.

He nods.

"I do..."

And then, even the pain of her teeth cutting into her bottom lip isn't enough to stop that sunny smile from spreading, happy and beautiful, across her features.  
Her eyes find his at last, and when they do, Banner feels a strange gripping in his chest.

A good gripping, this time.

_Maybe she still loves him, too._

Banner almost loses himself in that small hope.

But then, he hurriedly shakes his head.  
This isn't the only thing he wanted to say...

"But- But just...hang on." he says quickly, rising to his feet to put some distance between them before things get dangerous.

"What? Why?" Simza frowns.

"Beyond the fact that i've nearly killed you twice now?..." he snorts. "You're...not seeing the whole picture. There are things you...have to think about before I-...before we-...Just...Alright, let me put it this way." he sighs, running a hand through his hair. And then, very slowly, he looks her in the eyes and says, "Kids, a house, a stable job...It's...out of the question for me. I can't live the kind of life you want. I can't be normal, Simza..." he murmurs, and the heavy pause that happens after he says his final word damn near breaks his heart.

Because they came so _**close**_.

But, much to his surprise, Simza then only stands, too, mirroring his firm stance as best she can.

"...What makes you think I want normal? Or kids or a house or any of that?" she returns. "I'm a SHIELD agent, Bruce. I can't have a normal life anyway. None of us can, but...if we did this, we'd have one thing that those normal people out there wouldn't."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Banner asks, meaning to challenge her.

But then, Simza edges a step closer and suddenly, every single nerve in Banner's body is rigid and tense, burning with quiet anticipation at the nearness of her warmth and the very deliberate way she's now looking up right into his eyes.

"When all hell breaks loose, neither one of us would have to sit on the sidelines with nothing to do except **_hope_** that the other person is gonna make it." Simza murmurs. "We'd be in each fight together, Bruce. At each other's backs..."

"...And...what happens when there's a fight that we can't win?" he asks quietly.

But he doesn't shy away. And knowing that's his own way of showing that he wants this too, she smiles and takes another step forward.

"Then...we take a page from Tony Stark. And we figure out a loophole." she murmurs, daring to edge so close that he can now feel her the hot air from her lungs just barely graze his skin.

"And if there isn't one?..." he dares her in a breath.

She whispers, unfazed, "Then, we take one from Thor and just fight. Hard as we can."

Her eyes linger for a second on his lips, he's drawn in by guiding hand, and suddenly, before Banner knows it, he's thrown back six years and she's just one familiar inch away from him, waiting for that kiss.

But, for some damned reason, he can't stop himself from _**talking**_.

"...And what happens when we can't do that?..." he murmurs into the space between them.

Suddenly, Simza pulls back with surprised look on her face at the never-ending stream of challenges, and then, she laughs, and just like that, the moment is ruined.

_Too many questions, Banner._

The doctor nearly kicks himself for his stupidity. But...

"Well. Then..." Simza says, thinking on his question seriously for a moment. "Then, we pull a Natasha Romanoff or a Steve Rogers or- or, I don't know, a Nick Fury." she laughs.

She takes even his fumbling mistakes in stride and he could love her just for that.

"Hell, maybe even a Simza Sterling?" she continues.  
Then, she pauses and shoots him a sly look. "Maybe a Bruce Banner." she grins.

He raises a brow at that.  
"Oh, yeah? And what's a Bruce Banner?" he snorts. "Running and hiding, making mistake after mist-"

She silences him by taking his hand in hers, lightly tracing her fingers against the underside of his wrist, sending light shivers across his skin, and he breaks off into a hard, distracted swallow.

"A Bruce Banner." she says slowly. Her eyes flicker up and meet his, and each next word is spoken just inches from his lips, warm and precise. "It means we do anything we can to protect the people we love...Even if that's leaving. Even if that's dying."

"...Simza..." Banner starts, with a sigh.

Then, she smiles, a simple happy smile at the fact that she gets to say it.

"I know now why you did it. Why you said no, why you left and never came back, why even when you knew me, you didn't want to get too close. You thought you were keeping me safe..." she says. "...But...the thing is, you can't try to protect me forever, Bruce. Sooner or later, i'll get hurt. That's inevitable. I'll get shot. I'll get run down. I'll get taken hostage or interrogated or i'll be beaten and cut up or exploded by a grenade until i'm nothing but a hundred pieces of blood and guts splattered all over a wall in the-"

Banner shakes his head.  
"Simza, don't..." he pleads, placing a hand over her lips because he just can't hear anymore. "Please..."

And Simza watches, sorry for hurting him but strangely touched by his sadness, too, but after a moment, she frees herself from his touch.

"My point is," she continues gently. "that you can't save me. Not by running away, and maybe not even by staying close. But i'd still rather have you here than gone because-..."

"Because?..."

There's a long suspended moment in the air- suffocated and nervous and then,

"Because...I love you too." she whispers.

Then, because the words don't seem like nearly enough to describe all the feelings trapped inside her chest, because the words came too quickly, too rushed, too stilted and unnatural on her awkward, unpracticed tongue, she frowns at herself and tests the words out again.

"I...I love-..."

But that's as far as she gets.

Because suddenly, all at once, Bruce Banner's overwhelmed by the sound of those words, that frown on her face, the care in her touch, and he tips himself over the edge, that point of no return, and just finally, finally grabs her and...

he _**kisses**_ her.

Finally...

You could sum up both him and her, the past few days, this entire moment with that one word.

As in, finally, for the first time in all the years he's known her, Bruce Banner conquers the fear and the heartbreak and all the self-loathing and, for once, he just lets go.

The kiss is a soft, cautious, gentle thing, at first.  
Just like him-  
And his grip on her shoulder is warm and solid, but the feel of his lips pressing against hers is a faint tingle on her lips: airy and tender and light...

But then, he slowly pulls back, sees the shocked look in her eyes and suddenly, he just knows that he needs to do it again.

With a surprising strength, he tugs her in and this time, his lips meeting hers are rough, more desperate, the grip on her arm firm as he presses her further and further back without knowing, only understanding that he wants her to be so much closer. His other hand wraps itself firmly around her waist and he's more open in his wanting than he's ever been before, but somehow all of this is just like him too.

Simza gasps in surprise when she suddenly feels the sharp edge of the table digging into the back of her hip.

But Banner wastes no time.

In one smooth motion, he only lifts her up onto it and she lets out one laugh until, this time, _**her**_ lips are pressed against _**his**_, and she's pulling his body down against hers until she's lying flat on the surface with Banner leaning over her, propped up on one arm.  
His other hand runs gently through her hair as he breaks from one feverish kiss only to go in for another.

And then, his lips start to travel, trailing fire down her neck, and Simza lets out a moan-  
To him, it's quiet and soft and beautiful.

But...  
But it's also just too much, and at the sudden heat building in Banner's body, his conscious suddenly screams a sound alarm and horrified, he lurches back from her, his heart, his head, his whole body hot, blood pounding something fierce.

"I'm...sorry. I...didn't-..." he pants, mind a little foggy. "I can't... Not yet..."

Simza only blinks at him, still too flustered to say anything back.

And,_ Oh. Maybe she wasn't thinking of that at all..._

Despite his busy head, Banner nearly shrinks in that embarrassment, but when he glances at her, her cheeks are pink now too, which makes him think that maybe...she was?

Still, saying nothing, she only straightens herself out to approach him then, and at first, Banner backs away out of pure panicked instinct.

She seems surprised by that at first, but then Simza's face softens into a little smile and she holds out her hands in a show of peace and he remembers.  
He lets her approach to lay a soothing hand on his shoulder and as his mind clears and the emotions wind down, he's struck with a sudden sense of shame.

Once he's good and calm again, Banner slumps on the bed, disheartened.

"...I guess...we found another thing to add to the list of all my problems..." he scoffs.  
His voice is still a little rough, but it sounds more tired now than anything else as he rubs a hand across his face.

Still, Simza sits herself beside him and takes his hand in hers.

"I didn't think it was going to be easy, Bruce." she says. Then, she smiles, "But if you stop pulling away, eventually, we just might strike some type of balance, you know."

He glances at her questioningly. And in response, she lifts up their intertwined hands.  
_**Her**_ hand: for him, always healing, always mending, always soothing...

"And anyway," Simza continues. "I think the high point of the day, really, is that I finally stopped you from turning. That's a pretty huge victory for us, wouldn't you say?"

Banner chuckles. And he doesn't quite have the heart to tell her that he hadn't quite reached the danger of turning- not yet, anyway.  
And so, he merely sends her a doubtful look and says,

"...One time out of three, Simza. That's our record so far."

She only shrugs.  
"Yeah, well. I think I like those odds."

"Really? They don't seem a little low to you?" he jibes in a dry, self-depricating tone.

"Actually, when you run with SHIELD, that's considered pretty high."

And then, at Banner's surprised expression, Simza falls back onto the bed with a laugh. She stretches out, propping one arm behind her head, feeling suddenly exhausted by the day's events- exhausted, but...satisfied, too.

There's a brief moment of content silence suspended in the air before she speaks again.  
And when she does, her voice is soft and serious.

"You know, we're going to be walking into all kinds of hell tomorrow, Banner. And I know this might not be what you want to hear, but...i'm kind of glad you're the other guy, too."

And that's something he's never heard before.  
"...Why?" he asks.

The answer is something he has thought about in the past. And yet, it's still a surprise.  
Because never, in all his life, had he ever thought he'd meet someone who would value him, his safety, over the danger that 'the other guy' presents.

"Because I don't ever have to worry about you getting hurt." she says.

Banner pauses as he looks down beside him at the oh-so-human woman, blinking up at the ceiling and thoughtlessly saying such precious things.

And he knows he shouldn't say it, but, of course, he does.  
"...But I still have to worry for you..."

Her eyes find his then, in a look that's neither challenging nor tragic nor hostile nor surprised-  
it's just a straightforward truth.

Simza nods to acknowledge it.

And then, a little late, as always-  
a little slowly, a little clumsily, Banner adds, "...I think that's okay..."

For a stunned moment, she doesn't move, doesn't breathe, doesn't blink-  
But then, all of a sudden, she's laughing.

She lifts herself up to kiss him again and Banner gladly accepts.

That night, they fall asleep surprisingly quickly given what's waiting for them tomorrow.  
And neither of them knows exactly what will happen after the danger's passed, but that is a worry for when it actually happens.  
For now, they'll take what they have and be glad of it.

And so, even with Simza tangled up in ninety percent of the sheets, with Banner pressed up close for that other ten percent, it's a more restful sleep than he's had in years.

And for once,  
for once,

it's both of their dreams that are sweet.

* * *

It's an odd, low, earth-shaking rumbling that wakes Simza late the very next morning.

And as soon as her eyes flutter open and she sees the eerie colored lights in the sky through the window,  
as soon as she steps out of bed and feels the ground tremble around her feet, she knows-  
it's time.

Time to fight or die.

But...despite what they'll be facing, Simza is surprised to find that she isn't stricken and terrified, the way she'd thought she'd be...

She is still scared.  
But when she looks to her side and sees Banner's peaceful sleeping form, right now, more than anything, she just feels...

Ready.

A second later, when another tremor passes through, Banner wakes, too- groggy, but solemn, and they look at each other and he understands.

Within five minutes, they're dashing out the door, and this time, even though they are going with the intent to kill, they don't give any pause.

Because now they know that there's at least one person in all the world, who will never see them as a monster.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed..._


End file.
